Two Heads About Everything
by BatFreak1992
Summary: After a plan to rob the Second National Bank goes wrong, Chance and Ace split their partnership to follow their goals: Ace, who desires freedom; and Chance, who wants power. A story about romance, crime, friendship, and betrayal for those who love the Batman's rivals. Rated M for Murder. Sequel name: City in Pieces
1. Meet Ace Meet Chance

Author's Note: of course, I don't own anyone except for the two characters, my Ace and Chance. I wrote this story for my sister and me; she's a joker fan and I'm a Two-Face fan, so this was what I made for her. :D Hope you enjoy it as much as my sister and me did.

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter One: Meet Ace. Meet Chance.

The full moon was pulling over the graying skies as night started to descend over Gotham's city lights. It seemed that whenever the sun vanished, it was the moment of hell raising, and everyone, even criminals, expected the Batman to be watching every alley way or dark shadows along the merchant stores. So when it came to the strategies of infiltrating the Second National Bank, it was up to chance to give it her all. Of course, Chance, in this scenario was not a form of Karma that would decide whether or not the plans would succeed or not. Chance was the birth name of the young woman who was attempting to become Gotham's shining armor for the criminals; she was building her way to the top of the pyramid, only if she could knock off the Joker from his throne as the Prince of Crime. Chance's clever plans usually panned out the way she had always expected; the fact that she was expected them to go as she schemed was not because she was a clever predictor of the future. No, Chance was a egotistical about how clever she actually was. A high IQ, she felt she was cleverer than the usual dime-store penny who robbed the jewelry store or tried to make out with a gold penny from a pawn shop.

Chance's plans, as written, _usually _panned out. This is to mean that about 25 percent of the time, they didn't. And it wasn't because she missed some calculations in the times that the alarm would go off, or how many rooms there were to get to the safety box, or even the number of security guards there were to each door. No, Chance actually worked with a woman the same age as she did, a childhood best friend from high school, someone she had been working with for three years.

Ace.

Ace, this Ace, was not the young girl that could manipulate the minds of others or cause illusions. No, this Ace was actually a woman who was more than willing to have the blood of others on her hands, dripping even. Ace fit the profile of a local madwoman who went on a bloody rage because her boyfriend broke up with her; the ironic thing about her was that she wasn't really angry at all. Ace did it for the sake of a laugh, or just a small chortle. A beautiful woman like her esteemed cohort, she was sarcastic comedian with the flair for the taste of risk. Instead of planning every step of the way, as Chance did, Ace did what she wanted...25 percent of the time. No concern for the sake of the living, Ace sanctioned a blood lust: like a boy who played war games for the sake of confronting a downed body and shooting the gun first person, just to watch the body jump in a hilarious way. Meet Ace.

Chance and Ace had congratulated the field of crime when they left high school, though graduating with honors. They developed the sense that crime was a far better way to profit, and it had its perks. No fear for being mugged, none for rapists or murderers. If there was to be a kill, Chance ordered it on que, though she'd kill them quickly with a knife or a gun; if the target was less deserving for a mercy kill, Chance would let Ace have the honor. A mercy kill was to be canned with a gunshot through the head; if a man was to be given Ace as his punishment, he'd have done something extremely terrible. Ace enjoyed her job as much as an obese child enjoyed eating cake. And the fact was that Ace loved to play with her food before she ever took a bite. The punishment could last for hours or days. Usually it was whenever Ace grew bored. And her attention span was a _long _time.

Meet Ace. Meet Chance. Two Heads about everything, though two things in common: a desire for action, and a federal bank heist.


	2. Maps to the Vault

Author's Note: hope you enjoyed that last chapter :P Wanted to get the characters out of the way. On with the show.

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Two: Maps to the Vault

Chance listened to the radio as she poured over the blue prints to the Gotham City Second National Bank. The word that Batman had caught three men dressed in black trying to bust a cap over a boss in a bar club was spreading on every branch of media there was; it was like trying to hit a crime boss was something new, and obviously, it was always old news to those who weren't strangers to having their first kill. Chance merely faded away from the radio with a roll of her eyes as she turned them over to the dotted lines and the crossing solid figures on the rolls and rolls of blue parchment; she had scoured through about three already, trying to scope out the familiar etching of the vault. Chance had always targeted big banks, though she was certain that the FBI kept most of the hard-earned jewels in the second largest bank. Any idiot would think that the top dollars were being stored in the First Bank of Gotham City. Security was so tight on the assumption that nobody ever came close. Chance, though, had managed to pry some information from a hostage that had been at a local restaurant, an accountant who had got caught in the line of fire when Ace had gone in the hold up, blasting away with her pistols.

Chance had to thank the accountant for telling her that bit of information. The jewels, the money, any precious items...they were all held up in the second bank. And she wanted in there. If she robbed the bank nearly single-handedly, she would become infamous...Chance's mouth started to salivate at the thought of stardom until she was brought about from her imagination as Ace whistled the tune from the Disney Film_ Lion King _called "Be Prepared". Ace was just coming out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her.

"It's a different song everyday," called Chance from the kitchen, watching Ace pass the door. Ace's hair reached the middle of her shoulders; she hadn't cared to dry it apparently as the water was rushing down her champagne blond hair. Chance could see the traces of blood seeping into the towel. Ace had gotten crazy again, so the spattering blood on the walls and the crimson mas were inevitable. And because of that, Chance was robbed of 50 grand. This left Chance begrudging her for the rest of night. Berating Ace for whistling too much seemed appropriate.

"Ah, Chance, you need to lighten up," called Ace as she continued to walk along the carpet, barefoot.

Chance, who had put her head down to peer at the blueprints raised her chin to glare at the wall, intending it to shine through it to aim at Ace.

"Ooh," said Chance coldly. "So I suppose fifty _thousand_ dollars is something I should just forget and smile about, hm? If you...Ace, come in here."

"Just keep talking, I'm listening." Ace called back from the bedroom.

"I'm not going to speak through the wall. I'll wait until you're back in here!" Chance yelled.

There was a pause. Chance set her chin on her supported hand as she flipped the blue print page to reveal about eight more others. Realizing the truth about the prints, Chance gave the papers a grimace. She had been studying a draft of the bank for about an hour. Chance, though, had but a moment to lament her stupidity when a small pocket knife came flying through the kitchen and ended up on Chance's chair, a few inches from her left ear. Chance uttered a frustrated noise. Ace came inside the kitchen, laughing.

"I can't believe you lost me that much money in one single night," scorned Chance angrily, crudely wrenching the pocket knife from her chair; she threw it back at her friend, who skillfully caught it by the handle, the blade merely inches from her neck. As anyone would have reacted violently to near death, Ace shrugged it off with a smile and pocketed the knife in her fresh pair of slacks. She crossed the threshold to sit beside Chance.

"Look, you can get more at any local store, friend," Ace said calmly. "Besides, we didn't leave empty-handed. We managed to abduct that guy who told you about the vault," she indicated the maps of the bank.

"These are drafts, he never specified which one was the real one."

Ace stared at them.

"But don't you know which is the real one? After all, you always told me you could."

"Don't insult my intellectual vanity, you know I can't stand that." Chance remarked, glancing at Ace dangerously.

Ace rolled her eyes and rose to her feet.

"I'm hungry, what do you want for dinner? I'm starving."

"I'll have your head, if you're taking suggestions." Chance uttered.

"You take things to seriously," Ace said in a heavy accent, though returned to her normal voice as she rummaged through the refrigerator. "You know, Chance, it could have been worse. Batman could have shown up."

"That wouldn't have been worse." Chance added with a smirk.

"Even if we wanted to capture him and tie him up..." Ace said, matching the seductive smirk as she pulled out a large roast beef on a platter. "We couldn't keep him bound to make him talk. Or take off that mask."

The silence that followed was the two of them imagining the Batman tied spread eagle on a master bed, the only thing able to move would be his lips. Chance cleared her throat and rose to her feet. She managed to upturn several maps of the blue prints; seven of them fell to the floor. Chance had started to speak, but when she noticed that the one on the table looked creased, to have been folded several times, she stopped mid-sentence and gave it a look.

Ace's back was turned away from her friend as she threw the roast beef in the oven. It landed precariously on the edge of the cooking rack; Ace simply pushed it back in to stop it from falling onto the kitchen tile. The familiar stream of a chuckle that intimidated victims emitted from Chance, but Ace already knew it was a good thing. She rose to her feet and saw a wide smile on Chance's lips. Ace climbed over the counter unnecessarily and hovered over Chance's shoulder to peer at the discovered detail. She was never good at the actual plotting, so when Chance uttered another happy chortle, Ace could only look at her with an amused smile.

"What is it, Chance? What? _What?"_ said Ace.

"Looks like the accountant failed to tell me that the eighth blue print is the actual first print that one of the workers were supposed to keep." Chance said with a wicked grin on her face.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Ace said. Chance handed her the map; Ace glanced at it. It looked just like the others. "Chance. What are you getting at? The accountant told you the truth, so? That doesn't make it easier. It looks like the other maps that you've been staring—"

Chance took the map roughly and turned it around, pointing to two lines written on the back.

Some idiot had written his name across the top of the map on the back, showing ownership.

The name wasn't familiar.

"So who is it?" questioned Ace. "I never heard of a Ron Burgundy."

"That's not important," said Chance, sitting on the table, "No. Ron Burgundy is one of the people who managed to escape from that five star restaurant we were at earlier. He's a worker on the Project of the Vault that has the money in it."

"So what, you think he'll be as good as this map is?"

"He made the entry to the vault, Ace, my dear," said Chance, grinning. "So _he_ knows how to get inside...each..." Chance hit the map daintily with her finger. "Step..." she hit again. "Of...the...way."

Ace understood immediately.

"So we find him and make him talk."

"Not with your interference," said Chance seriously. "He's no good to us dead."

Ace smiled. "He'd make a great way to warm the fire in the winter time."

"And how would you plan to preserve Ron Burgundy until the snow came, hm?" said Chance, humoring Ace.

"I'd keep him in a barrel. Full of salt. He'd swim with his other kind."

"Are you talking about fish?" asked Chance, staring at her.

"Ugh, have some fun," said Ace, setting the map down. "Where's Ron Burgundy?"

"We don't have to know where he lives." Chance said.

"We go to his work?" asked Ace.

"I do think he'll be there. Just restrain yourself this time...You're costing me, and we won't be able to make rent."

Ace stared at her.

"We don't owe rent."

Chance looked at her, "Well, we would if you haven't shot her when she said we have to pay $5 for that garbage fee."

Ace shrugged.


	3. Not Just a Federal Bank

Author's Note: Favoring one of them over the other yet? Hope you enjoy this chapter as much this one. Enjoy! :D

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Three: Not Just a Federal Bank

Chance and Ace suited up. Ace wore a red and black costume, every bit of her body covered except her head; it was skin-tight, allowing movement to flow freely. In her boots, she kept two knives on either side of the skin; along her hips she connected a pocket knife and two pistols; on the inside of her wrist gauntlets, she kept a folding knife and an easily assembled pistol; and along the nape of her neck, hidden from view, was a line of gas pellets used for an easy escape.

Chance merely wore a black suit, though her fingers were exposed for easy retreat for sensitive alarm rays to get treasure. Chance was not as hands on as Ace, after all. Chance relied on acrobatics and sneaking, shadows became the new day. Though Chance kept hidden a knife in her shoe if ever she be taken hostage; and underneath her gloves along her knuckles were hard rings. Chance and Ace also traveled light; they didn't bring along backpacks or heavy armor or metal. And they traveled by foot, relying on the darkness and silent kills to remain hidden from view.

Though since they were merely entering a restaurant in the pit of nightfall, Chance led Ace to the edge of an alleyway. There, she pointed to the car, signing to Ace that she was going to unlock it and then Ace would hot wire it. Chance, having a hunch that some criminals depended on special hearing aids than sight, didn't count on speaking of her plans. Ace had taught her to sign language to remain unheard; no one knew what was going to happen until it happened.

As Chance approached the vehicle in the alleyway, she bent down beside the locked driver's door. She turned to Ace with an open hand; Ace reached up to her hair that was pulled in a bun; she took a bobby pin from her locks and handed it to Chance silently. Chance acknowledged it with a smile then turned to the lock, ramming the pin into the lock. Chance fiddled with it for a minute before it clicked. Ace uttered a happy noise. Chance glanced at her immediately, quieting her.

Ace motioned with her hands that she was going to climb into the driver's seat to see if the keys were in the ignition anyway. Chance nodded, slunk to the shadows, and watched Ace slide into the car like a snake. She was gone for a moment; then a hand appeared at the window, her body out of sight from the windshield to avoid being seen by oncoming cars. Chance watched her fingers twiddle and motion quickly. The car had no keys, but there was a license in the passenger seat. Ace, assuming that Chance wanted to see who was the imbecile who decided to leave their ID in the seat, threw the wallet out of the window. It landed in Chance's expecting hand.

Ron Burgundy's license. Chance opened the dollar slip and found three one hundred dollar bills.

Chance smirked. She pocketed the money.

Chance watched the car door open slightly. Ace signed: _"What do you want to do now? It's his car? Is he in the house?"_

Chance glanced at the shack that the car was parked beside.

She motioned back: "_Burgundy's a rich man; he owns the restaurant." _Chance pointed to the license then folded it back to show a slip of paper, an ID to belong to Burgundy that would allow him in the back of the eatery.

Ace gave an eye roll. Chance smiled. She already knew what Ace thought; no signing was needed.

She thought it too: What. An. IDIOT...

Ace and Chance entered the car, not before hiding the license in Ace's boots. The credit cards, along with the social security card, bank numbers, and of course the pin number would come extremely helpful. As Ace bent down the seat to unhook the pedals, getting under the hood to get to the wires, Chance remained slumped in the passenger seat, silently rummaging through the glove compartment. Chance grinned ever more widely as she came across several folded bills, bound with rubber bands. She tapped her friend on the back; Ace glanced up, red-faced from leaning for so long.

"What an idiot," said Ace quietly. "He isn't this dense, is he? Surely..."

"He's a restaurant owner, not a boss," said Chance.

Ace remained callous.

"_Still..._Have some caution..."

"Looks like he...is very close...to his...cook." Chance said with a slight tone of interest, weeding through a long panel of pictures from a photo booth.

"What, like intimate?" asked Ace curiously.

Chance flashed several pictures her way. Ace smirked.

"These look like they were taken from _'Videodrome'._"

Chance nodded.

"And it's a pity; she could do better. We'll leave her alone, though I've got no doubt that's who he's with right now in this slumming shack here." She glanced at lit window.

"Seems unlike you to want to interrupt a passionate night," Ace said from below, fiddling with the wires. "What," she continued, "with the planning, and the strategy, and the respect for others..."

"I meant it for criminals." Chance said seriously.

"Can we just enter the bank, we know where the vault is," said Ace, highly interested in just barging through and taking what ought to be hers. "Look, Chance, you can just stay here, pocketing credit cards and I'll go through and actually do it."

"It's not a local eatery, dear; it's a federal bank owned by the CEOs of Gotham City."

"Well, then let's kill the CEOs and get the fuck into the bank and get this shit. Chance, all the planning and crap you do, it drives me crazy sometimes."

Chance merely stared at her and said pointedly, "I know."

Ace sighed.

"Can I just try it my way?"

"We did, and you lost me $50 Gs."

"I was rescuing you from those people."

Chance leaned forward to look at Ace directly in the face.

"You slaughtered thirty, unarmed guards and five veterans in civilian clothes."

Ace shrugged.

"Well, I was having fun. You were arguing with a guard for five minutes before you pulled your gun and shot him in the face."

"It was a mercy kill, Ace," said Chance. "You purposely took your knives and slashed lacerations in your people and watched them bleed to death. You declined to leave when I instructed you to do, and we had to leave everything behind because I couldn't make you budge."

"It'd be nice if you enjoyed what you do for once!" said Ace irritably. "It's always a business deal with you."

"I _am_ doing business," said Chance severely, sitting back in her seat. "I can't make any head if you keep interrupting it either. There is no money if there isn't anyone to give it to us."

"Then pick it off their dead bodies. Either way, we get it," said Ace.

The car made a rumble. Ace managed to hot wire it.

"We'll discuss this later." Chance said. "Get to the diner; we'll find this Burgundy and question him. If he's not there, feel free to murder anyone you wish to; get your ya-ya's out."


	4. Finding Ron Burgundy

Author's Note: Fans of Joker and Two-Face, hope this story has entertained you, thus far. We shall continue on. If you have other interests in my stories, read my Harry Potter fanfiction "The Minister's Wife" or my Hannibal Lecter fanfiction, "Agnostica". If not, continue reading this one and enjoy! :D

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Four: Finding on Burgundy

Ron Burgundy's car was parked against the shack and he left his license in his car, but Burgundy's body was in his restaurant. Chance and Ace drove just around the back, hidden from the only single security camera at the front of the entrance. The restaurant wasn't as exuberant on the outside as the food was on the inside. The restaurant was Gotham's five star restaurant, some of the greatest cuisines were served within the dining area. Chance had taken her partner in crime to one of the places to extort him for some precious jewels. And whilst she had been discussing the transactions with Ron Burgundy, Ace had made use of the kitchen knives and managed to kill of the chefs who hadn't gotten out of the way fast enough.

Ace, who had also been lost in thought of the last time she was here, now remembered who Ron Burgundy was, and realized just why she thought he was the idiot. He had tried Chance's patience, then Ace had decided to take a "whack" at Burgundy to get him to take the hint, but Burgundy had jumped out of the way and one of the chefs was made the example. Burgundy paid out what he had toward Chance, along with the drafts of the Second National Bank.

However, it seemed to Ace now that Burgundy hadn't paid out fully as he had claimed. He had held back exactly how to get inside; a piece of information that he had told Chance was in the maps that were supposed to be true.

And now that Chance had discovered the half-spoken half-truth, Chance's stomach churned unpleasantly. It insulted her intellectual vanity that she hadn't caught on his secretive lies, that she hadn't seen through his frightened face. Burgundy wouldn't live this time; anyone who did hurt Chance's vain outlook of her brain didn't see the sun again if she ever found out: most of the time, she already knew on the instant. Looked like Burgundy saved himself a day before he'd meet his end. And Ace knew this.

So when Chance opened the door and her face was started to tinge pink at the apple of her cheeks, Ace smirked widely and crawled out of the passenger side, knowing well that tonight, she'd be able to get her ya-ya's out after all.

Chance and Ace signed to each other.

Chance walked up the small steps to get to the back door. She turned the door knob slightly, it was open. She motioned for Ace to get to the nearest window to see if anyone was there. Ace squatted below the windows, then raised her head a fraction of the way, her eyes caught the glimpse of moving bodies. She described what she saw by sign, that the bodies were silhouetted, and there were about three, but because it was dark, she couldn't make out more than what was in front of her. Ace glanced behind her, noting with some relief that the street light had been shot at, thus the glowing electricity that would reveal her haunting figure was hidden from view.

Chance, noting the realization that their shadows could be seen at window, followed her friend's eyes and also was relieved. She mentally scorned herself for her loss of care. Chance silently closed the door, then sighed. She pocketed the map that had Burgundy's last name then motioned for Ace to stay by the door until further notice. Ace nodded.

Chance knocked on the door twice.

Ace glanced through the window and saw the three bodies become six. She snapped her fingers at Chance to get her attention; Chance turned her head. At the update of the situation, Chance stood more readily.

Chance knocked three times.

"Burgundy!" she said her regular voice. "Burgundy, there's a bit of a problem with the exchange..."

Before she could say anything further, the door opened slowly, and a head popped out.

Ace hid in the shadows, watching the red-headed, suddenly flustered owner look at Chance, glance around the surroundings, then turned to her.

"Ma'am, I don't think there's anything to discuss."

"Discuss? No. Actually," said Chance sweetly, "I thought I'd let you do most of the talking. How many of you are in there, Ron?"

Burgundy reddened, frightened.

"Three."

"Wrong answer," said Chance swiftly. "Ace."

Ace appeared out of the shadows, according to Burgundy's sight; Ace withdrew the knife from underneath her sleeve and slipped it underneath Burgundy's chin. Chance merely smirked at Burgundy's terrified gaze.

"Oh...no...not you..." Burgundy whimpered as he glanced at Chance's partner.

"Those in there with you, tell them to back against the wall," Chance instructed. "You know what my partner is capable of. Enough blood has been spilled in a day, but in three minutes, it will be twelve o'clock, and it will be a new day. So I won't have any guilt in Ace having a few thrills. You know what I mean, Burgundy?"

Ace grinned at Ron.

Then he nodded, standing back to let the girls in.


	5. Working Together

Author's Note: Enjoy! :D

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Five: Working Together

Ace's conscious for mercy was very slim, in spite of how frivolous and cheerful she positioned, compared to the serious, critical, cold persona that Chance had. So when Ace stepped inside the building first to analyze the six people that were crowding in front of the window, she merely stared at them, then turned to Chance. Chance entered the restaurant in a way that a criminal boss entered, one who would be lavished with fear, knowing that those she would see wouldn't attack her: the arrogant look on her face suggested this.

Burgundy had recruited six men to help him with his issue, and it was no surprise that the men were staring at the two women as if they had become undressed. Chance and Ace met each other's eyes, only knowing that the gawking would have to stop; it was highly annoying. The six thugs stood against the left wall as Ace strode in front of them, holding her knife anxiously in the sweating palm of her hand, hoping that Chance would let her kill at least one of them...or, she hoped with some relish, that Chance would let her have them all. Unless she complicated the situation and did it anyway.

Ace smirked slightly.

There was a russle behind Ace's back; she turned her head over her left shoulder to see that Burgundy had tried to slip out the door, but Chance had discovered his unsubtle attempt to eascape; she took him roughly by the nape of his collar and pulled him chokingly to his previous spot on the floor. He gasped for air, crying out in dismay when she tossed him onto his bum. She indicated for Ace to scurry him against the wall. Ace held the knife to the six men in front of her, but she looked at Ron Burgundy; tilting her head to the wall pointedly, Ron understood Ace. He, as he was ordered, hurriedly scurried from Chance's feet to meet his nose against the cold stone wall on his hands and knees. Chance nonchalantly closed the door, locked it, and turned to meet the seven men in front of she and Ace.

The restaurant's lights were turned off, despite the sign outside reading "OPEN". Chance noted that.

"Sweetie," said Chance to Ace, "how about some light?"

Through the moonlight of the window, Ace moved about the room. A single footstep was made from one of the thugs. Ace heard a pistol cock in the silence of the room; suddenly heavy breathing was beginning to fill the atmosphere. Chance had heard the footstep as well. Ace's footsteps were cat-like, undetectable until she flicked on the lights of a lamp on the counter top. Chance glanced appreciatively at Ace's direction.

"Thank you," she said. Chance held one of her pistols in her hand loosely.

"What are you waiting for?" said Ron impatiently toward his men. "What are you thinking? Get 'em!"

The men, on orders, charged at Chance, the closest in front of them. Ace, from six feet away, leapt over the kitchen counter top and hurled herself beside Chance; Ace killed three men instantly; they toppled over each other like dominoes at Chance's feet. While Ace took care of a fourth man by slitting his throat, Burgundy cried out.

Chance held the man by his throat from behind his back, her pistol was pushing against his right ear. Ace glanced at the remaining three thugs, who were staring, terrified, at their captured boss.

"Stop this," said Chance instructively as a teacher would do to an unruly high school student, "or I will make sure your restaurant never earns another dime." Ace readily awaited an attack; outnumbered three to one, she was ready to add more blood to her slick knife.

"You wouldn't burn my place to the ground," said Ron coldly, having the balls to say such a dare. Chance's chin touched the tip of his shoulder, smiling at him.

"Haven't I the gut, hm?" she whispered in his ear.

Ace smirked widely. Such a dangerous lady to mess with when he was in her hands. Ace openly expressed her power. She was wild, callous, and not a inch of her body was untouched by decay. Ace had dabbled and then swum in some deep pools of murder and mayhem, whilst Chance managed to speak her way through threats and bluffs. Chance had killed quite a few people, but always she used her leverage against them. This, the restaurant, was Ron Burgundy's leverage. But if he didn't care about his restaurant, he would care for his family.

"I do not need your dollars," said Chance sweetly, "to make my living, dear."

The men made a move. Ace whipped her knife across a man's face. Burgundy jumped out of instinct; Chance glanced up to see the injured soul kneel at Ace's feet, holding one side of his face in pure agony. Ace merely gazed down at her victim with a large smile on her face.

Chance continued to speak.

"Ace isn't a patient woman, Burgundy, and you've seen in two minutes that her attention span suffers. Perhaps I might let her have your blood after all." Ace glanced over her shoulder.

At the insane look in Ace's eyes, Burgundy flustered.

"Or," said Chance ever more candy-coated in her delicate voice, "Perhaps I'll just give Ace your home address, license, papers, and we'll just take everything you have. I hear you have quite a vault in her home. We'd love to add that to our funds."

"Don't forget, Chance," reminded Ace, indicating the map.

"Oh, right," said Chance gently. "Ace, do give the two men each a seat at the kitchen counter. We'll have us a nice dinner over discussion. Right, Ron?"

"But," said Burgundy, "the third man, Lou, he's still alive. He's still alive. He's injured. Get him some help."

As Chance pulled Burgundy to a seat at his own diner table, Ace bent down beside the agonized thug whose cheek now supported a bleeding, purple laceration across the left side of his face. Ace held a hand gently to the man's chin, almost affectionately. The thug named Lou looked at her, hoping to have some kind of mercy. That was, until Ace's fingers glided along Lou's wound and she slapped him hard across the face, giving him a fresh wave of pain. The two men standing by made a pace toward her out of the pity of their comrade, but Ace had already risen to her feet. She gutted one of them with her knife; he keeled over, lying motionless. The last man was suffered a near decapitation; his neck only came off his shoulders a few inches before he fell against the wall.

"Ace, you have no control whatsoever," scorned Chance from the kitchen counter.

Burgundy was crying loudly. Chance glanced at him and said easily, "Shut up."

Ace pointed to Lou, who was groaning.

"I left him alive, didn't I?" she said as she wiped bloody spatter from her cheeks and neck.

"Bitches...you bitches..." moaned Burgundy from his stool.

Chance cocked her pistol again and aimed it at his throat.

"What did I just say?" she said patiently.

He whimpered.

Ace pocketed her bloody blade, then took a handful of Lou's clothing to pull him easily along the floor. She rose to her feet and strode behind Burgundy.

"She doesn't like to say things twice. I should know." Ace noted in a fond voice.

It took thirty minutes for Chance and Ace to cook an actual meal for Burgundy, Lou, and the two of them. Chance had the knack for cooking, whilst Ace wasted some boredom by bartending a few drinks. The two of them had pleasant conversation while Lou and Burgundy were wallowing away in misery, though it was coined that Burgundy still showed some interest in his captors for their culinary expertise. Chance was originally very polite, so her patience and understanding was more of a result from manners in the past, etiquette and such. When she served her patrons their meal, she expected gratefulness. What she received were merely looks. Ace, who knew this coin, turned to the silent receivers and snapped at them with her fingers. Lou, who managed to pull himself up to the table, whimpered out a thank you; Burgundy uttered a noise that meant for it to be keen, but was so worried of what would take place after dinner that he wouldn't make a word.

Chance was pleased, so then she and Ace sat down in front of the men.

They ate.

In two minutes, Ace had the plates in the dishwasher.

Burgundy had relaxed during the meal, but now he tensed when Chance didn't resume her seat. She remained standing, leaning against the counter to speak business. Ace perched herself on the counter.

"Ron," said Chance, mixing her Cosmopolitan with her finger as she fiddled with the floating cherry, "I came here to get some answers. And I intend to do so, but the truth is, I don't want to kill you."

"Y-You don't?" said Burgundy quietly.

"No. I don't. I just want to know why you gave me false descriptions of the Second National Bank."

"I gave you correct—"

He cut himself off when Chance began to shake her head.

"Don't lie to me." Chance said. She signaled for Ace.

"Wait, wait," said Burgundy, flustered, as Ace let herself down from the table. "Wait, Chance, please, wait...What is she gonna do? What? Wait...please..."

He was taken aback when Ace didn't take him; instead, she took Lou by the back of his shirt and pulled. He toppled backward off his bar stool and was sent to the floor on his side. His face hit the tile and he cried out in pain.

"Chance," said Burgundy, glancing back from Chance to Ace, "please. He's my brother..."

Chance held up a hand to stop Ace, who frowned.

"Lou is your brother."

Burgundy nodded quickly.

"Don't harm him..." he whispered. "Please."

"Harm him?" said Chance incredulously. She pointed to the brother on the floor. "You let my girl, here, claim his left cheek for a trophy. He is very much harmed." Chance paused. She frowned deeply. Then quietly... "You're lying to me again."

"Chance, I beg of you, I'll tell you everything..."

"He's leading you on," Ace told her partner disdainfully. "He's handing you lies. Let me kill this one and have him as well."

Chance momentarily considered the suggestion.

"No, I don't want to die." Burgundy said. "The safe is in the National Bank."

"I know where it is," said Chance loosely. "It's not the first bank I've robbed. How do I get inside the vault?"

"I don't know."

"You're lying again."

"I _don't_ know. I made it a long time ago, I don't remember how to get inside."

"You're still lying to me."

"I am not lying."

"And _still you lie to me!" _Chance roared angrily.

She hit Burgundy across the face.

"Ace, get the salt. Make Lou beg for death."

Ace delightfully skipped to the cabinet and retrieved the canister. She poured a large quantity in her palm, then stepped over Lou's body. She merely dropped it on his face. He screamed.

Ace kicked him in the throat. He screamed, but now he was mute.

Burgundy cried out.

"Please, Ace, stop!"

Chance chuckled.

"She has no sympathy for you, Ron. She has none for your dying friend over there. Now, I will ask her to stop if you tell me the truth. But hurry. Ace sometimes doesn't listen if she becomes involved in her work."

Burgundy didn't hesitate.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell. Just please..."

Chance nodded. She turned to Ace. She might have said "Let him go", but as she used her hands to sign to Ace, Burgundy's face contorted to fear.

"You _are_ going to let him go...right?" he said when a wicked grin crossed Ace's thin lips.

Chance smiled genuinely.

"Of course, I'm letting him go. Ace."

"Of course," said Ace. She pocketed her knife.

Chance rounded on Ron.

"All right, tell me. How do I get inside the vault?"

"It requires a combination lock and an eye detector positive result."

"It requires whose eyes?" Chance instructed. "In order to get a positive read, whose eyes must be read?"

Burgundy gulped.

"Mine."

Chance smiled delicately.

"Then you'll help us break inside."

"No, I won't."

Chance shrugged.

"Then I suppose we'll..."

Ace unsheathed her pocket knife once more.

"No, no!" Burgundy cried out as Ace stood behind him with her knife poised at his jugular vein. "Chance, call her off! I'll do it! _Chance!"_

"I don't like to repeat myself, Ron." Chance said.

"Chance," said Ace, "we don't have enough room in the car for three people."

Chance glanced at Burgundy.

"Well...huh...Looks like you won't be coming with us after all."

Burgundy sighed in relief.

"Ace," continued Chance, "kill him and get his eyes out of his head, will you?"

Burgundy gasped as Ace took him by his chin with one hand.

"With pleasure," she hissed, then she swiped her blade across his throat like butter, grinning all the while.


	6. Heads or Tails

Author's Note: Wasn't the last chapter a change of events? I enjoyed writing it. Have you decided which character is your favorite? I have :) Anyway, on with the show.

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Six: Heads or Tails

Chance had said before that anybody who cheated her vanity would die. So it was done. Ace collected Burgundy's eyes from his head, along with the combination lock from within his pants pockets, and took the remaining cash on his person, burning his clothes for disgrace on Chance's part. Chance had waited in the car, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, listening to some quiet radio. Within the restaurant, Ace dealt with Lou, vowing that if he tried to rat on the police, she would come back to the place and do him in, despite what Chance had promised.

Ace returned to the car in less than ten minutes, holding Lou's wallet in her hand; she closed the door, then turned to look at Chance—she was frowning slightly at Ace's presence.

"What?" questioned Ace.

"That," said her partner, taking the wallet from her hand, "was not part of the plan. Burgundy disgraced me; Burgundy was to be humiliated. You thought this was part of the plan?"

"Do I look like a girl with a plan?" inquired Ace irritably. "It's bad enough I actually do what you ask."

"No, you actually do what I say, I don't ask," said Chance pointedly.

"You know," said Ace grudgingly, "your lack of fun is starting to get on my nerves."

"Just buckle up already." Chance muttered.

As Chance drove to the National Bank, Ace rummaged through their supply bag, acquiring a skeleton key, gas bombs, and extra links of ammunition. Ace attached the supplies to several loops on her suit. Several click, click, click, clicks later, Chance was turning a right, slowly approaching the illuminous bank before them.

"Here's the plan," said Chance, parking the car in the shadows. She unbuckled and turned to Ace. "We go in there, gently, quietly...The last thing we need to have done is let the security know we're going in through the vents."

"I sure hope you know what you're doing." Ace muttered.

"Let alone me; you just control yourself. I mean it," Chance scolded Ace when her partner rolled her eyes.

"I got it," remarked Ace, visibly annoyed with Chance's constant reprimanding. She sighed, "Such a control freak."

Ace and Chance stayed out of the street lights' visage as they strode along the side of the building. A guard was stationed there along a fence. Chance climbed nearby boxes. Ace watched Chance lean ever so slightly over the edge; the guard uttered muffled gasps as Chance took him by his mouth and throat; she cracked his neck with a simple twist. He fell to the wet ground with a light _thud._

Ace joined Chance on the ledge of the piled boxes. Together they found the vent through the ai conditioning. Chance had studied the maps; the vents led straight to the vault's entry. Ace withdrew a screwdriver from her belt and took out the bolts. Chance took the cage off and handed it to Ace. She crawled inside quietly. Ace pursued.

The drafty, small space was large enough for Ace and Chance to crawl side by side. They made sure to side-leg the opened vents that led to other rooms, such as cubicles and offices. Voices came from each vent, more oncoming as they approached them, and then out of earshot as they crawled through the tunnel. It seemed like twenty minutes before they reached one where there were no voices at all. Chance stopped Ace from crawling any further. She peered down below.

Chance looked up at Ace. Ace looked perplexed; Chance looked confused.

Below them were several silent security guards, armed with weapons. They surrounded the large combination lock to the steel vault behind them. Chance frowned.

Chance tapped Ace on the shoulder and signed for her to go back the other way and try to find an exit. Ace shook her head. Chance made a pointed look that she didn't want to try to take on an army of soldiers below; Ace shook her head.

Chance sighed irritably.

She snapped her fingers to Ace's belt where she spotted a pocket full of tranquilizers.

Ace collected five from her satchel and handed them carefully to Chance. Chance retrieved a straw from her person, placed the tranquilizer dart in the hole, aimed it downward, then blew softly and hard; the dart hit the closest guard. He fell sweetly; the others surrounded him.

Ace, too impatient, to do this, turned to Chance.

Chance, knowing exactly what she was going to do and shook her head.

"Ace..." she hissed as Ace started to poise herself over the hole. "_Ace..._"

"_Your way will have us here for centuries, Chance,_" rasped Ace. "_I'm tired of doing what you say all the time, you witless control freak._"

When Ace flew through the hole and ended up on the floor, Chance cried out angrily,

"Ace!"

The security guards swarmed Ace. She withdrew several weapons, shot each guard, then flew her knives into each man's stomach, terminating their jobs permanently. Chance uttered a frustrated groan; she threw herself through the hole, landing on her feet.

"Open it." Ace said abruptly.

As Chance hurried with the lock, she turned to Ace.

"You'll have us killed, you reckless buffoon!" she said coldly.

"Then after this, perhaps you and I shouldn't work together anymore." Ace suggested as she withdrew Burgundy's eyeballs from her bag.

"That's a right suggestion you've had all night," said Chance agreeably.

Ace gave the eye scanner Burgundy's pupils; they matched accordingly.

The vault started to open, and just when Ace and Chance thought that the fifty billion dollars in Gotham's Second National Bank was theirs, Batman showed up through the roof mysteriously. Both girls beamed at him. Ace flew through the vault, taking whatever she could. Batman headed toward Ace, who smirked at him,

"You should join our side, my little love rodent," said Ace charmingly with a smile.

Batman had Ace by the arm until Chance came running at him with a bar of gold. She hit him over the side of the head with it.

"You wouldn't hit a girl, would you?" said Chance precociously.

"You girls aren't going too far," said Batman woozily, getting back to his feet. "The police have swarmed this building, and they're going to—"

"Darling," said Chance, "you can pretend that Gordon and his moron Bullock are going to capture us, but you should stop while you're ahead. You should really consider our offer, Batman. You'd make a good head of house."

Ace came up from behind Batman and kneed him in his backside. He fell to his knees.

"Come on, Ace," said Chance irritably. "We can't take all of this tonight. I can't believe you're leaving me with nothing again..."

"Just take the jewels."

"Jewels are nothing!" said Chance, taking Ace. "Come on, if Batman's right, we gotta move!"

Chance and Ace ran through the doors upon doors, and after about fifty murdered guards and sixty doors later, the girls raced through the parking lot to leap over a fence, retrieving their car. Ace flew into the driver's seat; before Chance could buckle in, Ace was skidding through the alley ways, dangerously missing every close call possible.

When they entered their hide-out, avoiding flashing lights, Chance slammed the door shut and turned to Ace.

"We can't work together. You're too reckless, all you care about are games and blood. It's not Grand Theft Auto, Ace."

"What, you're one to talk!" said Ace scornfully. "You just plan and stick to your stupid P's and Q's, well you know; I'm not fully mannered, nor do I wanna be. You've got too many morals still stuck to your rear end that you can't be my class of criminal. I don't care about money, I just want to have fun."

Chance walked up to Ace.

"Then we are right; we shouldn't work together. Anymore."

Ace nodded.

"All right. We split up then." Ace said less coldly.

"All right..." agreed Chance.

A pause. They hugged each other briefly.

They started packing; together, they agreed that no one should keep the apartment. Chance and Ace met each other by the door, awaiting separate lives.

"I hope you get your jollies, wherever you go," said Chance, smiling.

"Hope you make it to the big leagues." Ace baded her. "When you do," she added, "Call me up. Maybe you'd have loosened up by then."

They descended downstairs. When they came to the door and exited the building. They smiled at each other, one last time. Chance turned left. Ace turned right. Neither of them looked back.


	7. On Our Own

Author's Note: Wasn't that a bit bittersweet? On to new things. Enjoy :)

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Seven: On Our Own

_One year later..._

The newspapers were printed out every day, thrown into a bin and then sold on the streets for fifty cents each. The walkers on the streets had to check the crime articles to see if the Mayhem Duo were had still done nothing; in truth, Gotham believed that the famous crime leaders, Chance and Ace, had in fact split their team and were working separately. The crime didn't cease, it was the same men and women being slaughtered, but the slaughter was not in regular intervals as they always had been. Even the bigger fish on the chain were catching wind that the dynamic pair of criminals had split their quarry, and were leading their own gang, or working alone.

The criminal bosses around Gotham were delivered this news on separate occasions, and although they were suspicious of why Chance, the calculating, sophisticated leader of the pair, had decided that her blood sister was no longer welcome in her favor; or perhaps, it was theorized that Ace had finally decided that Chance was too constricted to some set of values and wanted to work solo, disbarred by Chance's order of restraint.

The masterminds of Gotham didn't care to waiver so long on the issue, though they were keen to catch one of them and recruit them. Ace and Chance, though, were not like the rest of the criminal world; Chance was too smart to be tricked so easily into a deal that would not benefit her intellectually or materialistically; and Ace was a loose cannon. Both of them were wanted by the police and by the Dark Knight. Although they were working by themselves for a year now, it always seemed that Ace had still retained Chance's habit of staying hidden. So therefore, not even a wild fire like Ace could be caught, despite the trail of bodies she left behind.

Ace hobbled into her fair grounds. The vindictive acrobat had made her nest on a patch of land that had once been the dwelling place of the Joker Gang, but since she aired them out with her own technique, the slash and gash way, she took their place with homage. Ace had the whole stretch to have for herself, and she accustomed the place to her personality: no limits, no responsibilities, no order, and the walls were spattered beautifully with the quick splash of blood. Ace enjoyed the freedom for the year that she had been away from orderly Chance. Free to kill, Ace was on the home range, and anyone whom entered her play ground was the victim of some reckless torment, be it a homeless man or a ruthless thief. Either way, she burned the clothes and keep the jewels or pocket change.

Hobbling, Ace had run into a ruckus, biting off more than she could. What might have been a play date had turned into an ambush; Ace had been ambushed by a group of gunmen on the prowl, and when she had nearly escaped the torture, she had returned home with a seering laceration on her knee cap. Used to her pain and carelessness, Ace merely frowned at the weakened appendage. She threw herself on a table and performed her own self-surgery, stitching together her skin with a sterilized needle and alcohol. She let out a swear word when she finished and then poured alcohol on her wound; the burn made her take a stolen vase off the table—she threw it across the room and it shattered against the contacted wall.

Ace had admitted that once or twice, she valued some company. Working alone was good for business, but the socialization suffered greatly. She talked to herself sometimes, but it would only get her through the shrewd thinking; a true conversation could never hold up with one person, unless you were two people to begin with.

She sighed then turned to the picture she had framed on the wall; she and Chance. Ace frowned once more.

Chance would have scolded her for not being more careful, about her lack of caution in the matter. Ace scoffed to herself. Ace had caution; it was Chance who was too careful; that girl had become paranoid, was what that was. Ace delivered herself as the criminal who would trust, but a second chance to trust was not even applicable. And patience wasn't a virtue of hers. Waiting would miss the opportune chance, and Ace...she couldn't miss any more opportunities. Any more waiting would have her killed.

Chance sat in the dark within her warehouse beside Gotham's city docks. She had the lights off, the windows shaded, the sky light blocked off by several pieces of cardboard, and the doors were heavily locked by chains and wooden boards. Chance barricaded herself inside the building, setting alarms around each entrance. The light she was given were by lit candles around her on the table as she poured over the map to the Second National Bank.

Despite leaving her friend more than willingly, Chance ached a second chance to win the money load in the bank. Her stomach turned every time she thought about how Ace had screwed her over again. Chance loved Ace as a friend, but as a co-worker, they just weren't right. Ace was too wild, too much into the fun and games; Chance had to concentrate. There had to be a line between fun and business. Truth and lies. Happiness and misery. There needed to be a balance, and that was the rub: Chance was balanced, and Ace was not.

Chance searched the map over and over, trying to understand why there were guards surrounding the vault before she and Ace had gotten there. They signed their conversations, they were unseen, no alarms went off, and they gave no one the hint that...No...Chance had went to Ron Burgundy for the answers. She had inquired about the Second National Bank; the vault, the way inside, everything...

Wait...No...

Chance remembered that she told Ace to spare Lou. To spare Burgundy's so-called brother. He lived. Then that familiar angry feeling rushed through Chance's stomach like it had never done before. Lou had gone to the police, he had told them of their plan. And she understood that he should die as well. If only she had let Ace have his head...They'd have gotten away with it scot-free. That would also explain how Batman appeared there; he must have had been watching the entire time. And the police outside; they were there after Chance and Ace had slipped through the vents.

Chance scorned herself again; except this time, she let it all out. She flipped the desk in front of her, and the candles fell, casting her in darkness as she let out a violent shriek of anger.

Double-crossed. A second time.


	8. Like a Glove

Author's Note: :D

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Eight: Like a Glove

The sixth months after Chance's realization that she had been double-crossed had passed agonizingly as she delve into the deeper parts of her brain to figure out how to kill Lou. Her very skin prickled every time she thought of what Ace would have already done, what she should have done back in the restaurant, but as she had promised, she had let Lou go. Chance scoffed at herself for abiding her promises. That seemed to be her weakness. Promises. Little things that no one kept...just like secrets.

Chance had developed, though, the sort of plan that could make her infamous and look pass that oversight. And it was by this particular sort of help that made her think she would be well-known. About five months ago, she had tried to over take the restaurant herself, and of course, with little interference from the missing Ron Burgundy, she got away with it as simply as that.

However, Ron Burgundy hadn't betrayed just Chance. Apparently he had an ongoing business deal with the once charming District Attorney and now dual-personified Harvey "Two-Face".

Chance only knew this because an hour after she finally proclaimed to her new staff of thugs, Two-Face had come barging through the door, carrying a dual pistols, and nearly took her head off with one of them. Chance had remembered their encounter perfectly; and it was like they automatically clicked.

She had patiently asked him, not who he was, but why he had come to her restaurant. Two-Face hadn't been a stranger to her particular face, for either them: they knew each other, but mutually, they thought together that the other was their enemy. Chance had waited for him to blow her away like several of her thugs, but Two-Face had merely interrogated her with his rough voice the whereabouts of Ron Burgundy. Chance had been polite as always and told him the truth: she had him murdered.

While Two-Face believed that she had come for his money, and he readily positioned his pistol along one of her pulsing temples, he had hesitated, and merely looked at her. He had taken out his coin, and she had glanced at it with a smirk.

"For all its worth," she had told him while the coin flipped in the air, "what could you possibly want out of someone like me, Two-Face?"

He had caught it on the back of his hand. She remembered that it landed on tails, the hard side. Chance had known the result, but she stopped him.

"Harvey Dent," she had said as he cocked the pistol, "would very much love to get rid of me. I'm a criminal, deemed to be the head of Gotham's finest masterminds, who would want an intelligent creature like me to live much longer?"

He had hesitated, intrigued.

"And what would Two-Face, _me—_Why don't you tell me what I want." Two-Face had told her coldly, daringly even. And she had responded, raising a hand to the barrel of his gun on forehead. She had lowered it slowly.

"You'd let me live," she had replied.

Two-Face had given her a look that she thought he'd give her. It was one of interest, but nevertheless, Chance had known that she had him down, despite the community's question of his capability to tell one personality from the other.

"Two-Face, I could be an asset to you," Chance had said indifferently. "You know what I'm capable of; you know I used to work with Ace. I'm not a stranger to violence, nor am I scared to kill if I must."

Chance had whipped out a hidden knife from within her sleeve and held it at his neck.

She had given him an ultimatum, one that would give himself another ally or the other would end a chance to get another one. Harvey wanted her to die; but Two-Face found it slightly irritating how she was almost his equal in smarts and combat; that, and her name was the way he functioned. He functioned by chance. And this was...her...

So Two-Face and Chance became one.

At the fair, six months later, Ace had killed about fifty more intruders. Most had been gangsters, and she was sure none of them were just trying to hide there. Ace had figured out that many of them had been hired thugs, sent to her territory to have her wiped off the face of the earth. Though she couldn't pin point the culprit. None of them shared resemblances to any crime boss, nor did the thugs really want anything. Not money, not fun, no pride, or even want her from activity. And they wouldn't tell her what exactly.

Well, two days had passed, and no one had come looking for her. Ace had developed a security method, merely by trip wires and such. So when a passerby had been lurking in her funhouse, she had heard the alarm, then toppled off to see what she had caught in her trap.

When Ace met the Joker, it was by odd circumstances. Joker had been her lurker. When they met, she knifed him in the knee; he, in turn, had made a long gash along her shoulder for a comeback. After some squabbling about who hit who first, Joker told Ace that he wasn't ignorant. He had come looking specifically for her. Ace, charmed by his wit and some attraction to the clown, had made him a drink and they shared the arrangement that he proposed to her.

While she had been sitting on the edge of a robot's shoulder, he had told her his proposition.

"I heard you on the news, you have no self-control whatsoever, no biding for the law..." he had paused and smiled in sweet relish. "I like it."

"Oh, yeah," Ace had scoffed, "and what exactly do you think I would do? Join your gang? I heard how you treat your little Harle. Well, listen, bucko," Ace had said, sliding off the robot to land in Joker's face. "I won't be ordered around by anymore control freaks, all right? I had my dues when I was employed by Chance. Rags to riches and money that could feel coffers was the only thing that smart-ass was good for..."

Joker had continued to smile.

"What," he had said, "you think I am employing you, also?"

"Isn't that what you are doing?" Ace had asked seriously.

"Baby," he said sweetly, "all I want is a teeny, tiny, small favor from you."

"You'll tell me once you figure that out. Sorry, _Mistah J_," she coined the phrase in Harley's accent, "but I decline."

She started to walk away; Joker had ran off his bar stool, letting him topple before it fell to the floor. He had ceased her arm.

"Hey, you fucking jester, let go of me...I—!"

"Will you just relax, already? Jeez. I thought you were the funny one."

At his remark, Ace had loosened. She turned in his arms.

"Weren't you always complaining about the lack of fun or whatever to that prude, hm? Isn't that what your deal with her was, after all?"

Ace smirked at him. She poked him in the chest.

"You sound like you're getting to the point."

Joker smirked as well. He threw an arm around her shoulders.

"Sweetie, baby, take a walk with me."

He had told her that he would let her run free, unchecked, unchallenged, and to kill whomever she deemed worthy. Joker had held up two cards out of random and asked her to pick one. She had chosen one questionably, intrigued by a new partner's approach to humor. She looked at it. It was the joker card. She looked at him. Joker revealed his own, and it was the ace of spades.

"Perhaps we're just ahead of the curb, aren't we? What can you do with a joker card? And does the ace of spades mean you win or lose?"

"I don't know the answer to either of those questions." Ace had replied.

"Well," he had said, pocketing the ace of spades, "perhaps you'll join my crew and show me."

She had agreed.


	9. Second Attack on Second National Bank

Author's Note: the introduction of two-face and joker were shorter than what I planned, but hey, it went all right, didn't it? :)

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Nine: Second Attack on Second National Bank

The ironic detail that made Chance and Ace realize that they were still working with each other was this: Two-Face was even more uptight than Chance, so she tried to make him smile every now and then; and Joker liked planning _some _things, and when he did let Ace on the loose, he had to restrain her, though his restraint wasn't a scolding. Ace had been covered in bruises by Joker's punishment, but nevertheless, she still fawned over him due to the fact that he did let her have her jollies every now and again.

While Chance started to grow tender feelings for the Two-Face, she took pity on him whenever he flipped that scarred coin of his into the air. The few seconds it took to flip that thing was enough time to get ahead a minute or two. Chance, who had always fully depended on anything or than that of what she was named, found it slightly irritating that despite her ally's wit, intellignece, and detection skills, he relied his plans on a simple 50-50 chance. She morbidly stated on several accounts that she wanted to light a match underneath the good side so that Harvey "Two-Face" just because Big Bad Harv. Two-Face merely had stared at her the entire time until she shrugged her shoulders like Ace would have, and walked away. Chance had tried to joke a few times with Two-Face, making small puns, but she took the hint that he wasn't a laughing matter. Chance understood Two-Face more than anyone ever could; she saw both Harvey Dent and Two-Face at the same time, though greatly preferred the immoral to the one who held values.

One circumstance was that while Chance hindered some vengeance toward Lou, the man who had ratted them out to police, Two-Face had confronted the traitor personally, and although Chance had taken out a knife and was ready to render the man as a eunuch, Two-Face had restrained her, taking the decision to the coin. The coin had landed on the good side, so he told Chance, to, once more, spare Lou's life. When Two-Face had turned his back, she side-stepped him and threw the blade into Lou's throat, fulfilling her promise.

Two-Face had hit Chance across the face for disobedience.

During the squabble that night, Chance was furious with him. They had screamed at each other for an hour, and the hired thugs had rushed inside the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about; but Two-Face and Chance each took a kitchen appliance and threw them at the on-lookers angrily. The mutual reaction caused the two of them to simply back off. Chance had remarked to him that his inconsistent need to rely his decisions on a moral side was irritating, and that she wholly wanted him to get rid of Harvey Dent. Two-Face couldn't do what she was asking, so he merely tossed up the coin in the air, but didn't catch it. Harvey Dent didn't want to do what she was asking because it would make him leave forever; and Two-Face didn't want to do what she was asking, for he wouldn't inflict harm onto himself.

Chance, cold as usual, turned her back on him and went off to bed.

Ace's tolerance for Joker was actually higher than what she had thought she could deal with; his jokes were hilarious, his plans were side-splitting, and his time to time affectionate terms of endurement and little chin tips were adorable, though Ace had to bat away the unreciprocated Harley Quinn from her shoulders. Harley Quinn had been broken out of Arkham by Poison Ivy, who had hoped that now since Joker had allied himself with a wily fox, she would leave the clown and pursue a different path. Ivy had mistaken. Harley had returned to the old fair grounds where she and Joker once shared the love nest and had come to find that Joker had been lying on Ace's lap while she stroked his hair lovingly.

Harley freaked. She and Joker had a massive quarrel, and when Harley had punched Joker in the face, Ace had rounded on her, and a marvelous cat fight had ensued. It was Joker's pleasure to watch the two girls go at each other over one crazy fellow who beat both of them. He had let them fight for about the hour, but eventually, he grew bored, and straightened the two of them out by taking each woman by the neck of their suits and pulling them apart.

"There's no reason why you both can't get along," he had told them easily, sitting them both down in a chair as he spoke calmly. "I enjoy _both_ your company, and I don't intend on ridding myself of two very pretty, very punctual broads. Do you see what I'm saying?"

Harley and Ace agreed together that because they loved Joker, they'd follow his command. When the year had formed, Harley and Ace had become friends, though Harley never stopped trying to gain the Joker's affections. Joker would play the two women against each other. If they worked together, he would give Ace more gratitude, never mentioning Harley. The second time he would cuddle up to Harley, making Ace a lot more jealous. Eventually, there had to be some kind of week end fight between the two of them to get it all out. Joker would call on the show, and several thugs looking for one would pay to watch the two fighters have it out. That's how he made the living.

Chance and Two-Face had sat down for the weekly debate: exactly what were they going to do to make ends meet. Their business was in a shallow plunder. Two-Face's coin had been flipping in a moral streak, so the places that held the most fortune had been turned down by Harvey, while Two-Face wallowed in miserable, yet quite frustrated sulk. Chance bit the inside of her cheek, wondering when the next pay check was going to come.

"If I speak out several plans to you," said Chance apathetically, "will you flip for each one I say?"

"Yes." Two-Face answered.

"If I said one-hundred plans, you'd flip like...one-hundred times?" said Chance with her chin in her hand. She sighed when he nodded. "Darling"—he looked at her—"Perhaps, since you _are_ helping me advance, you'd let me make the decisions?"

"This would compromise things, wouldn't it? As I recall, I let you survive."

"No, I let _you_ survive. Because," she continued, swiftly taking the quarter out of her partner's blue-tinged fingers, "I didn't depend on this to make my decisions for me. I'd have killed you the moment this little beauty landed on tails." Two-Face reached for it, snarled, and took it out of her hands. She didn't hold onto it.

"You make things too difficult. I figure you'd be along with me." Two-Face growled, holding up the coin. "This _is_ me. I have to decide to go along with your plan."

"Ugh, Harv," she said gently, "I am with you more than you know. But these constant setbacks...they're putting us down in the hole. We can barely make ends meet."

"We're doing fine."

"Can you just listen to what I have to say for a change?" she muttered scornfully.

"All right," he said after a pause. "What do you have in mind?"

"In my mind, I think we should try to get into the Second National Bank again."

"Again? You tried the first time by yourself. I hear Ace gave you some problems."

Chance's face reddened.

"I lost control of her," she said. "I didn't have _any_ problems. The little weasel, that Lou, had warned the GCPD and I didn't know it until we were in there. I had it all planned out, I know how to get inside. Just follow through with this, with me. Don't," she said when he started to flip his coin, "Don't Harv. Just play through this. Because I asked you to? As a partner?"

"You know I can't do that," his rough voice softened slightly in a baritone. It had moistened to Harvey's speaking voice.

"No, damn it!" Chance said angrily, rising to her feet. She didn't want to speak to Harvey. She wanted to speak to Two-Face. So the only way to get that violent crook back out again was one way that always worked. Chance raised her hand and punched the man square in the face. With an angry roar, Two-Face rose to his feet automatically and took his hench girl by her throat. She squealed, though a smile was on her face.

"Fine." Chance gasped when he strengthened his grip. "Harv."

Two-Face loosened his hands around her neck. She fell three inches back onto the ground. He licked his lips and returned to his chair. Two-Face flipped the coin then handed her the result. She smirked...Tails.

Joker was pacing the living room as he played with a paddle ball, montonously hitting it every time. Ace had taken to a seat in front of him, Harley settled on the back of the couch, watching the Prince of Crime frown as he continued to play with the paddle ball.

"Puddin'," said Harley, "you're getting really good at that."

Joker smiled slightly.

"Of course, I am. It's a child's play thing. Ah, but what I'm really wanting to do is something more fun than this stupid, cheap toy." He tossed it to the floor. "No, girls, this is something I've been wanting to do for a while, and on the contrary, it so happens that the time couldn't be more convenient."

"How do you mean, boss?" Ace inquired curiously.

"Well, I thought that it might be, well, _fun_ to try to get Gotham's attention."

"Which would be?" said Harley inquisitively.

"We should get a big bonus from a nearby bank." Joker said simply.

"The loan sharks have paid all out, Mistah J," said Harley, but Ace already knew Joker's point.

"The Second National Bank." Ace had muttered, a bit callous.

Joker smirked at his ace of spades.

"Perhaps, dear, you might want to suggestion something other than that? I hear that you and Chance had a whoopsie-daisy on the merry-go-round with Batman. If Chance couldn't pull this thing off with you, I certainly can."

Harley gushed, "Oh, of course, you can, puddin'. You're a freakin' genius!"

"Harle, that is an excellent point!" Joker beamed.

Ace remained cold.

"Joker, that place is crawling with pigs. You won't be able to enter unless..."

"I'm certain there is a way. You see, my lovelies, there is a celebration tonight. For the Gotham citizens that have managed to raise another billion dollars in that bank, just a few miles away. I think it'll add to the fun if we gate crashed their party."

"And blow the place up?" added Harley excitedly.

"Exactamundo," Joker agreed.

Ace rose to her feet.

"I sure hope I get a cut of the killing, though," she added.

"Darling, I wouldn't have it any other way." Joker said loudly, throwing an arm around her waist.


	10. Trying Not to Complicate Things

Author's Note: Thank you for keeping in touch with my story. Hope you've enjoyed it so far. On with the show :D

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Ten: Trying Not to Complicate Things

Two-Face spent an ample amount of time with his dual-moralized, right hand woman. He and she had meals at her restaurant, which had been refurbished and cleaned since Burgundy's absence. He was pronounced dead, on account that his body was no where to be found. They plotted and schemed equally. It was the night of the heist, when they were going to burglarize the bank. Chance had motioned for Two-Face to come with her into restaurant. She nonchalantly strode behind the kitchen counter where once her reckless agent had perched herself. Chance glanced solemnly at the spot where Ace had stood, then turned to Two-Face, who merely gazed at her.

"Sit." Chance suggested with a wave of her hand. "I figure I'd let you in on what I have been doing for the last two hours."

"Then why did you drive me here?" he said in his gruff voice, indicating the restaurant with his hand that held his half-dollar coin.

"I'm making you dinner." Chance told him with a smile on her face.

Two-Face shrugged then sat down at one of the square diner tables. He pulled his chair, turned it backwards, and sat down in it, fully-bodily facing Chance. His right side of his face gazed at her with interest as she momentarily left her eyes from him to look at the empty space beside her. Ace had threatened Burgundy from leaving the room. Chance smiled fondly. Indeed, she missed her best friend...A pause made her come back to reality. Chance cleared her throat and searched for vegetables and herbs, finding them scattered across the kitchen counter where the last shift had retired for the evening, hearing that their new manager was coming in the evening.

Chance chuckled. They had panicked and left the kitchen a mess.

"Are you going to tell me what you been doing behind my back?" said Two-Face.

"Not behind your back, Harv," said Chance. "I got help. Because despite the craziness tonight, there will still be police officers around the bank. You can be sure about that."

"And I'm guessing you've got some plans in mind." Two-Face stated dryly.

As Chance started to chop up the ingredients, she continued, time to time meeting his eyes,

"I called a former of mine. He has good men. I asked him to send some of his marksman our way. The former is an old mob boss that Ace and I used to work for; before we went solo." Chance added at her partner's inquiring look. "I asked him to bring back up in case the Batman showed up. Which he will," she added smoothly. "And you can also be sure that other class of criminals will be trying to take the vault as well."

"Ah, expecting every attack tonight apparently. I should have known your paranoia would cost us a grand," Two-Face remarked to her. "How much are we talking here? The back up plan can't have come free."

Chance pulled a pot from underneath the sink. She put it on the burning stove and turned the dial to high. With a small smile, she glanced at Two-Face.

"I made a deal with them," she said.

"What kind of deal? You gave them a promise." Two-Face said glumly. "I know your modus operandi by now, Chance. You can't help but to follow through when you promise something."

"I didn't promise anything." Chance said boldly. "I merely told them that whenever they need a relatively small favor, I would do what I could to assist. They graciously accepted my word."

"And who is this boss that you have allied us with?" said Two-Face curiously.

Chance gave him a look.

"You don't think that I have both our interests at heart, it's understandable." Chance stated off-handedly, sensing a lack of trust on his side. "I once was questioned when Ace and I worked together. She seemed to only instill her security with the likes of partnership; she didn't like outsiders, so odds are, she always had traps set for intruders...Good old Ace..." Chance muttered, slightly crestfallen. She glanced at her partner, who by the look on his good side, sensed her loss and merely frowned at her. Chance continued on with a hardened tone, "You and I have been developed that partnership, Harv. We've always looked out for the other since day one. I don't understand why you still suspect that I'm going to stab you in the back," she took a knife and threw it in the sink. Chance leaned against the counter. "It's not in me to go against my word."

"I think you're missing your rambunctious comrade," said Two-Face. "Perhaps you'd like to see her, hm? You're awfully distracted."

"I'm missing her because she's my best friend. I haven't seen her since we decided to fall out."

"I hope that's not going to complicate your function at the heist. Chance, tell me who this boss is. Who is he? I'd like to know."

Chance continued to make the stew as she spoke calmly.

"Salvatore..." She paused. "Maroni."

"Maroni?" said Two-Face venemously. "You realize..."

"That he made you who you are, I know," said Chance patiently. "But when Maroni and I worked together, we agreed on the same beliefs. We agreed, when Ace and I handed him our resignations, that if one of us needed some help, we'd reciprocate the offer. Maroni and I had a past relationship, so it makes him sympathetic to my cause. You still think he holds some ill will toward you when you prosecuted him as D.A?"

Two-Face was in her face in a minute. She merely met his bulging eyes with a morose disposition, unafraid of his usual upcoming tantrum. Two-Face said angrily,

"How could you ally yourself with such a traitorous slime?"

"We're diplomats in the underworld, Harvey," said Chance sweetly. "Neither of us complicate the code of the honor with thieves. Maroni and I agreed long ago that since we were an item whilst working together, no hard feelings would get in the way of favors. Ace, too, even though she's a bit...rambuncitous...honors that code."

"Diplomats among thieves..." Two-Face muttered coldly. "You've no idea how some of these criminals are like..."

With that, he sat in his table flipping his coin the entire time.

The Joker had dismissed Harley Quinn to let her go prancing to find the remnants of the Joker Gang that hadn't been flushed out by Ace's booby traps. Of course, since Harley was out of town, Ace had trotted off to the funhouse on her fairgrounds, having new-found amusement with the mirror room. Around her were the distorted images of her person, some tall, some short, some thin, some fat, and other appearances that looked like a combination of all four. Ace glanced around her. Then she heard that familiar laugh. In the house of mirrors, Ace turned and turned to find the image of Joker, but she was perplexed when she small only one of him in the twenty two images of Ace.

"You don't remember that I used to house myself in this fun house," said Joker.

Ace stepped forward, a mirror in her way. Joker was behind her in the mirror. She turned her head over her left shoulder. Now he was in front of her, but his full form was not in the room. How confusing!

"Joker, this is crazy," said Ace, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"What, you can slaughter a whole fleet of guards, but how come you can't catch me?" he said in a low voice. Ace turned a 360 degree, but now Joker could only be heard, not seen. His voice was in her head, it felt like.

"You and I need to talk," said Joker in the air.

"Could it be perhaps one on one?" she muttered, circling to find his face.

She turned and turned, then when Ace had finally started to give up, she looked to her left; Joker appeared in her face, in the room with her, and it startled her. She fell to the floor at his feet, withdrew a pistol on instinct and pulled the trigger. Joker simply dodged it with effort; the bullet hit the mirrors around her. The shards of glass shattered about the room. Then Ace smirked slightly as she saw that one of the mirrors had been a door itself, a one way door. She looked at Joker who merely gave her a smile.

"As I said," he continued, "We need to talk."

Ace and Joker went into the tent of psychics. Joker felt for the light within the tent. A small lamp lit up above them.

"This scheme is particularly amusing, what fun we'll have," said Joker. "However, Ace, I want you to be on your guard."

"What, you want me to actually pay attention?" said Ace critically.

"Well, not in a way that kills your fun, never. But I do know that there's quite a bit of a load in that bank, and it's not just us who want that money in it. We have to be careful. Penguin is sure to sniff this one out, and if I'm right, it won't be surprising when Two-Face comes around."

"He's been on that moral streak for a while, though. What are the chances that he's going to be there tonight?" questioned Ace.

"The same number of chances that always exist when he's there: two." Joker remarked, withdrawing a coin from hammer space. "You're irreparably valuable to me, though," he told Ace as he pocketed the coin. "I can't have you getting your jollies out and be killed because, what with your dress style, as is mine, we are recognizable." Joker chuckled. "So, I want you to hide your face."

"And your little jester?" inquired Ace icily.

"Harley will be with me most of the time, though if they catch her, who am I to stop her? What do you care about her anyway?"

Ace shrugged. "I don't."

"Then what's the problem, hm?" Joker said. He leaned back in his chair. "All I ask is that you cover up your pretty face. You do that, I'll let you go on your Grand Theft Auto mass killing spree or whatever. It's no tear on my cheek what you do."

Joker started to walk away, but Ace said—

"Chance might be there tonight."

Joker turned.

"Yeah, so?"

"She'll be trying to score at the bank. Take our profits."

"So kill her." Joker said carelessly. "Listen, Ace, if you're as hard as they say you are, then what's a bit of action going to do on your part? You know her style, you know how she fights. She'll be a cinch. Besides, you're with me, aren't you?"

"Well, of course."

"Then don't complicate things, Acey-poo. Knock her off and come back to me."

"She won't be easy to take down."

Joker sighed.

"If you can't punch her to death, take the easy way out."

"Which is?"

Joker grinned. He handed her a knife.

"Stab her in the back."

Ace took the knife. She merely stared at it...


	11. Prepping

Author's Note: nothing much to say this time. Just to enjoy :D

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Eleven: Prepping

Chance's back up rendevoused in the chambers when she rallied them up, ready to head to Gotham's 50-50 Second Street where the citizens were cheering and screaming their heads off in the distance, throwing safety to the wind. Chance glanced out the window of Two-Face's warehouse. There were flashing lights, confetti flying through the air, and swigs of alcohol poured the street as drunkards tally-hoed to a celebration song of Gotham Knights. Two-Face stood behind her, the both of them looking out the window with serious frowns.

"Chance, I don't want you to go out there exposed," said Two-Face from over her shoulder. She turned around and looked at him.

"I haven't the face for a mask," said Chance sweetly.

"No," Two-Face said. "For your spirits, I suggest you take on my henchmen's popular face paint."

A man strode from behind two face with a paintbrush and two colors of paint. Chance glanced at the man with a slight smile. The man approached her and dabbed his brush in the black charcoal and slid the brush along the left side of her face. Chance waited twenty minutes. The henchman dabbed his paint brush into the crimson bottle and colored her other side of her face a deep shade of blood, rendering her nearly unrecognizable.

"What's to stop the police from actually killing me anyway?" said Chance, turning her face to her cohort. "They'll kill me because I'm working with you."

"Batman's gonna be here, my dear. It's best if he considers you to be a thug rather than a well-known villain." Two-Face told her, tapping the bottom of her chin. He turned to the artist. "Get my men ready. We're going through the back way. It'll buy us time before the real thing hits Gotham."

Ace had disappeared behind a curtain, doing a cartwheel before flying through the wavy material. Joker sat on a throne-like chair with one leg over the arm, flipping a stack of cards between his hands. Ace threw back the curtain and placed her hands on her hips. She wore a brightly colored carnival mask.

"How's this one, sugar?" Ace said brilliantly through the mouth piece. Joker, who had started to lose interest, looked up and stared at her.

"You look like one of the Chinese dragons!" said Joker, chuckling. "Perhaps we should go a more natural look. Of course," he said, swinging his leg from around the arm, "if I made you the way Batman made me, it might not go as lucky."

"As if I have bad luck," uttered Ace, withdrawing the mask from her eyes. "Then what mask did you have in mind."

"Go a little more flair." Joker told her. He handed her a mask that looked like his own face.

"Where the hell did you get this?" said Ace in plentiful amusement.

"Through a New Years' Eve gig a few months back." Joker replied nonchalantly. "Had about a million of these babies xeroxed, the citizens of Gotham used them. I guess Batman saw it through that he'd ruin my fun. But he won't today, no siree." In a darker voice, he said, "You can count on that."

"You're a genius, puddin'!" said Harley from a distance.

Joker looked at Ace with slight exasperation.

"She smothers me," he muttered. Then he went all happy when the jester somersaulted over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. "Harley, you're not dressing up for this party?" he said happily.

"I don't need to dress up, Mistah J. I'm a party itself," she cooed. "What's Ace gonna do?"

"She was going to start the party with a bang." Joker remarked. "I scratched that plan to creep in; it'll be more fun going in through the front. Besides, Bats'll be waiting for us anyway. I bet he's been tracking us. If so, great."

"Ah, so we aren't doing it secretly," sighed Ace. "Chance would rolling around in her sleep if she knew."

Joker looked at Ace.

"You can be so sentimental, Acey-poo," he told her. "You're starting to lose your touch."

"I haven't lost it," said Ace seriously.

Harley decided to test it. She approached Ace. "What, Ace," she said, "missing your bossy boo-boo because she isn't ordering you around? Perhaps you'd like to just meet up with her and deal with her bitchy control freak side—Ahh!"

Ace slapped her across her face.

"Don't talk about her like she's a fucking freak," said Ace calmly. "She isn't crazy."

Joker chuckled. "Ace, she's as insane as we are."

"She isn't." Ace retorted patiently. "And I wouldn't leave to talk to her. She's probably all the way up the food chain by now, or getting there."

Joker shrugged.


	12. Colliding Again

Author's Note: :D

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Twelve: Colliding Again

Two-Face guided the band of secret agents through the back of the bank, indicating Chance to go ahead of them. She looked like her other co-workers, but Two-Face could recognize her by that undeniable color in her eyes. He nodded for her to go in the vents first.

Joker and Ace were car-pooled in a van, flying through the city streets, pass the fairgrounds. Ace was at the wheel, adorned in her lover's replica mask; he glanced at her. Harley was in the back seat, preparing ammunition in pistols. Behind them were the vans of their allies, the Joker Gang and a Royal Flush Gang tailing them as was intended. Ace's wild fire driving nearly cut them close to the edge of the curb dangerously, putting the car on two wheels. Harley squealed loudly, suddenly startled, but laughed out loud. Ace grinned, suddenly free.

Chance glanced behind her to see Two-Face nod his head. Through the vents, Chance scantered on her knees, gliding along the metal smoothly, remembering how slowly she and Ace had slid through it. She went through it, peeking down each vent to make sure guards were there this time; she saw them. She turned her head to look over her shoulder, then snapped at the men behind her to gesture for them to notice the guards. Chance got to the end of the vent tunnel and peeked through the hole to see that there were no guards around. Chance smirked widely, wholly hoping that this time, the gold was going to be in her position.

Joker poked his head out of the raging window of Ace's mad driving and whooped loudly.

"Drive, Ace! Faster, faster!"

Chance slid through the hole and approached the vault. The men followed behind her. Two-Face lowered himself through the vent and stepped behind her. She unlocked the vault, passed the eye detector, and the vault opened.

"Maybe I'll actually be able to get in," muttered Chance.

"I wouldn't count on it," said a voice elsewhere. Chance automatically frowned. She and the boys turned their heads up to see Batman sitting on a ledge up in the ceiling, watching from above. Two-Face growled and aimed his machine gun up at the man in black and blasted away at him.

Ace approached the bank in a fast pace. The citizens of Gotham screamed and started to run everywhere; celebration to sudden panic. Joker jumped out of the car, Ace skidded to a squealing stop. Harley flew through the car and started wielding her bazooka, blasting bombs in buildings and concrete fell apart.

"Baby," called Joker to his masked cohort, "go get our load, I'll meet ya back at the car!"

The Royal Flush Gang came a-shootin'.

Ace ran straight through the bank. She drew her knives from her boots and tossed them around her, killing every guard that swarmed around her body.

Two-Face yelled for Chance to grab what she could and get going. The girl had bagged several gold ones and jewels. Chance scattered through the building.

Ace and her partners aimed for the officers who were told that it was a code black, an intrusion. Ace smirked. She was right: villains were here, including Two-Face. Ace saw several men coming toward her, wearing red and black face paint. She _was_ feeling a bit blood thirsty.

Chance handed the men her bags when she saw men and women dressed in cards.

"Joker's here," said one of Two-Face's thugs. "He's got them wearing his face apparently."

"I'll take care of _them,"_ said Chance challengingly. "You get the gold back to the vans."

"And if you're not back within three hours?" inquired the man.

Chance shoved the bags in his arms.

"Then I guess it's a chance I've taken, isn't it? Go."

Ace watched one of the men shove bags of money into his fellow comrade's arms and instructed them to go ahead. Ace and now the only person in Two-Face's army stood in her front of her. Ace grinned. _Ah,_ she thought. _A fair fight._

Ace abided by the rules of battle; she turned to the Royal Flush Gang and instructed them to go back.

"I want you to go back. Join Joker. I'll handle this asshole."

"A'ight, Ace!" called one of the men.

Ace and Chance were standing in front of one another. They didn't know who they were going to be fighting. Chance thought Ace was one of Joker's thugs; Ace was sure Chance was a man. They said nothing, but they collided together.

Chance withdrew her daggers from her sleeves; Ace whipped out several knives from her utility belt and suit. They fought each other. Ace flew at her, attacking her shoulders, stomach, and knees. Chance didn't try to hit; she blocked, and blocked. Parry, parry, parry. Ace started to get irritated.

"Throw a fucking punch, you coward!" Ace roared.

"Like this?" Chance punched her in the throat.

Ace fell to the floor. Chance jumped on her; Ace kicked her off by pushing her stomach; she pitched Chance across the marble surface.

Batman approached the girls with a clouding shadow.

"Always disrupting my fun!" Ace shouted at him. "Really, chump, you should stop trying to save the bad guys in the end."

"Yeah, sweetheart," said Chance, getting to her feet, "you should join our..."

Ace and Chance suddenly stopped talking and stared at each other.

"Side..." Ace finished Chance's sentence.

"Ace?" muttered Chance.

"What the hell?" said Ace incredulously. "You're working for that dashing DA? What's with the face paint?"

"What's with your pretty mask?" said Chance, knocking the paper mache off Ace's face.

Ace and Chance smirked at each other as a hello, then turned to Batman.

The ruckus that ensued was by the three of them fighting all at once. Then Two-Face's men came like a ocean of black and red holding jewels; Joker's men came from the other side, blasting their rifles and such. They crashed together like a battle field.

"Whoo!" cried out Chance. "What a party!"

It was when Two-Face and Joker came into the so-called party that they realized that Chance and Ace realized exactly whom they were working for. Ace and Chance bombarded into the vault of the Second National Bank to collect what hadn't been abducted; and they left nothing behind. Before Chance and Ace could split, Batman threw a Bat-bomb and exploded Two-Face's cars. Chance gasped loudly as the ground shook below them.

"Looks like you're coming with us," said Ace, taking Chance's hand. Two-Face, who recognized Ace's relentless features, flew forward and took his partner by her wrist. His sudden grip around her forced her to stand by him; Ace made a whiplash movement and turned around to see who had restrained Chance. With a grimace, Ace approached Two-Face, glancing over his shoulder to see that the thugs and Joker's minions were fighting off the police officers and an oncoming masked vigilante.

"Just trust me," said Ace to Two-Face bitterly. "You charming little minion isn't going to get killed while she's with me," she added when Two-Face reared his face in front of hers.

"Harvey," said Chance, "just let go for once, will you? Just wing it for a change? What choice do we have at this point? Batman's coming after us and you want a debate?"

"I don't trust her," said Two-Face in gutteral growl.

Ace glanced at her best friend.

"Hey, if you two don't want to come back with Joker and me, who's going to save you, hm? We're your last chance at survival? Bats surely isn't going to guarantee you any deal," said Ace in a business-like manner. She saw Joker and Harley Quinn run out of the building together. Joker mimed for Ace to come back to him. But he stopped with a skidded halt when he saw Chance. Ace winced slightly, then turned to Chance once more.

"Joker's asked me to kill you before," she informed her. "He doesn't want any loose ends."

"Kill me?" questioned Chance. "What, because I'm after the gold as well in the vault? It's a free for all in there, anyone could get tonight..."

Before Chance could continue on with her speech, Joker had appeared behind Ace with an armed machine gun, jamming the barrel into Chance's chest. Chance glanced at the gun then gazed at the prince of crime himself. She had to climb over his precipice in order to gain the respect all Gotham criminals desired. Chance found it amusing that Joker was willing to blast her away. Two-Face, though, did not get the joke. He side-stepped his girl and stood in front of her like the bad ass he was, and pushed away the lens from Chance's body with a rough swipe.

"I thought I told you to kill her, Ace!" said Joker, slightly disheveled by Two-Face's sudden protective side. Joker took Ace's arm and set her in front of him. His chin steadied on her shoulder. "Do what I ask. It's what you wanted to do for a while. Kill because I want you to, maim because you want to do it. Isn't that why you joined me in the first place, my dear?"

"No one is going to touch her," Two-Face roared. Joker frowned.

Batman, who had been occupied by the last of the guards, flew in from the shadows. Joker grinned once more, standing in front of Ace. Batman glanced at the four supervillains. What a match.

"Looks like we have to discuss this later..." muttered Chance.

Ace nodded in agreement. Two-Face and Joker glanced at each other in some mutual dislike, but when a common enemy was in their midst, their rivalry was put aside for a more convenient setting. Two-Face and Joker left Chance and Ace to battle the Batman, both knowing that their favorite fighters harbored a bit of a psychopathic crush for the dark knight. While they pre-occupied the super hero, Two-Face charged the back up of Gordon's officers; Joker gathered Harley and the remnants of his team to fall back and retreat to the fair grounds.

However, when Batman was just about to get the best of the girls, with Chance lying on the floor with a bleeding leg and Ace was beside herself with a bleeding cheekbone, there was a sudden crash from above, and falling from the ceiling were agents in top hats and tights. Chance and Ace exchanged exasperated looks as Penguin toppled through the roof.

"The money is all out, you fop!" cried out Chance as she wrestled to her feet with some agony. Ace held her bleeding face; her blood seeped through her pointed fingers. Batman, too, was curdled on the floor. Ace had started toward the vigilante with a readied knife.

"Let me stab the beast and get on with it!" Ace breathed.

"No," said Chance steadily, taking her friend's wrist. "Enough blood has been spilled this day. You..." she breathed. "Ace, you've had no control since I left you. Joker's let you off my tight leash."

"I do have to admit," said Ace, pocketing her knife. "Things were a lot more fun when my partner became angry with me. Mr. J simply nods and lets me go. Gets quite boring." Ace smiled. "Surely you've got to be craving some freedom yourself."

"Two-Face smothers me. He's more constricted than I am." Chance said gently. "And his plans are always judged on that coin of his. I'm surprised we actually went through with this one," she said, amused.

Ace grinned.

"I've missed you."

"Well," said Chance, "I can't really say that I'm glad that I can make choices without you ruining them. Though the occasional mishap...it was all right, Ace."

Penguin was racing through the building with his black and white gals. Looks like he didn't believe Chance; the money was truly gone. She and Ace had taken every gold piece there was. And now all that was left to do was to retreat to the fair grounds. Two-Face and Joker would have to accept that although Chance and Ace were very much different, they were still old friends. And despite Ace's ridiculous blood lust, she had not a bone in her body to kill off her old boss.

Together, they ran back to the masses.


	13. Escape

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Thirteen: Escape

Two-Face and Joker had burrowed through the dead bodies on the floor, tossing them carelessly aside with their kicking feet as they headed toward the door. Ace didn't trust Batman to stay there on the floor, painfully idle. She knew about the opposum's way of faking weakness and then springing up at the opportune moment. Ace had experienced it with Chance earlier tonight. The punch in the throat still was agonizing. Chance watched Ace from a leaning pillar as her quick hands worked along Batman's wrist, binding him to a nearby desk. Ace leaned forward and kissed him sweetly on the lips before rising to her feet.

"Love to stick around and chat, my little love bat, but I'm a one man loon, and I can't afford you sticking your wings in my business." Ace whispered lovingly, then turned to run toward the exit. Chance's wounded knee made it hard for her to get going, so Ace aided her by taking her arm and wrapped it around her own shoulder. Ace lunged toward the wide doors with some effort, grateful that even when her friend was on her own, Chance hadn't delved into her chocolatey temptations and gain any weight.

Chance took one look around the marble floor to see that most of the surface was a sick burgundy color. Ace had massacred about twenty officers; most of them still held their loaded weapons in their hands; others still had their guns in their holsters. Chance made a note to reprimand Ace for killing unarmed citizens of Gotham, but released that note when one Harvey Bullock appeared from behind a white pillar and aimed his loaded pistol at Ace's face.

"Freeze," said Bullock coldly.

"As if," Chance retorted. "Harvey, Harvey, Harvey Bullock," she said from around Ace's neck. "Why don't you put your pretty pistol down on the floor and walk away, huh? Your friends are dead today. You don't want to join them, officer."

Bullock hesitated. He glanced at Ace's face. Her cheek continued to seep blood. The long stream of crimson fell from the apple of her bone to the end of her jaw line. Bullock smirked.

"You won't get out alive, girls. Chance, your wound will putrify, and Ace, you reckless wench, you'll bleed out."

Bullock continued to talk, but Chance leaned her head to the side and said into Ace's ear,

"Shoot him."

"You sure you don't want to flip for it?" retorted Ace sarcastically.

"I said shoot him, Ace." Chance hissed.

"Done."

"Stop talking!" Bullock roared.

Chance released Ace and fell to the floor; Ace withdrew a gas ball from the nape of her neck and pitched it at Bullock. She took a magnum pistol from her hip and drew it on a staggering Bullock, then pulled the trigger. There was terrible scream from behind the smoky cloud. Ace bent down and hoisted Chance to her feet, then both of them hobbled quickly out the doors, coughing wildly to get through the foggy barricade.

Through teary eyes, the girls watched flushed red and wild blue sirens run all over the streets; there were helicopters in the air. A large spotlight fell on the two of them.

"I swear to God, this was not part of the plan," said Chance with some difficulty.

"What ever is?" remarked Ace firmly. "Where is Two-Face?"

"He's probably gone back to the house. Where's your Joker?"

"Babe!" cried out a voice.

"He's there." Ace said gently.

Joker was at the far end of the street. He was waving crazily with a big smile on his face. Ace took Chance tightly around the waist, and with an unsteady heave tossed Chance's body over her shoulder. The loud police intercom called overhead to Ace that they were going to be shot on the spot. Ace ignored the warning. She flew down the stairs, running as fast as she could. Chance looked up uneasily and flicked a knife out of her sleeve. Ace was halted when female cop, Montoya, appeared in front of her.

"Stop in the name of the law!" she cried out.

"Not today, lady," said Chance sternly. She pitched the knife into Montoya's knee, sending the officer to the pavement in a scream of pain. "Go, Ace!"

Ace shot through the parking lot. Joker barreled inside the car and skidded beside Ace who threw Chance into the back seat. Chance landed in Harley's lap clumsily. Joker honked the horn for Ace to get inside the car faster. She threw her hand through the passenger window and unlocked the door. Ace got inside.

"Go! Boss, go!" cried out Harley, setting Chance right-side up.

"I can't leave yet, I don't have enough gas!" Joker yelled, turning around to scream in Harley's face.

"What?" said Chance and Harley together incredulously.

A pause.

Joker chuckled. He nudged Ace in the arm and pointed the gas meter which read that the tank was completely full.

"Just kidding." Joker cooed. "Hee hee."

He floored the car and they went flying across Gotham's hills.

"Where's Harv?" asked Chance painfully, pulling her leg suit up to see the intensity of her wound. "Where is he?"

"He's not with you, love?" inquired Ace to Joker.

"What, you think I left him behind?" said the prince of crime, looking at Chance. "He's in the trunk."

"You put a human in the trunk?" said Ace curiously, kicking her feet on the dashboard.

"You put him in the—Joker, are you insane? He'll die in there!" Chance said indignantly.

"Oh, Chance, lighten up, will you? This isn't the first time I've put a person in there," Joker sighed fondly.

"But Mistah J, the only other times we put people in there were the dead ones." Harley said, scooting up closer to look at her boss.

Joker's eyes widened. Then humorously said, "Oh...right."

Chance frowned.

"When you get a chance, will you please pull over and get him in the back seat of the car?"

Joker turned to Ace.

"I'm joking again. The guy's in the car tailing behind us. There's no room in here for six people."

Chance frowned deeply.

"Joker, there'd be only five of us in Harv was in here."

"No, technically," said Joker seriously, "Harv is two people. So Two-Face didn't have enough room in...Ace, you didn't tell me that Chance couldn't take a joke."

Harley turned to Chance.

"Don't worry, friend. Mistah J's known for his jokes. Sometimes, I don't even get them."

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Funny..." Chance muttered, unamused.


	14. Deal

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Fourteen: Deal

While Joker and Two-Face settled the jewels and so forth from the back of the trunks of the two cars, Chance led Ace to the middle of the fair grounds. Ace waved a hand at the palace of the carnival with a wide smile.

"This all came to me when we split up," said Ace, leading Chance around the mirror house and the ferris wheel. "It was like freedom was for me, you know. Destiny."

"Destiny," muttered Chance. "Whatever came of destiny? If anything, everything is ruled by 50-50."

Ace sat down on one of the benches. She pulled her friend down beside her. Chance looked slightly crestfallen.

"Why the glum mug?" inquired Ace. "We just jacked that bank for what Gotham owed us. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Well, of course..." said Chance admittedly. "But, my God, I should have been past this ages ago. A whole year and what have I achieved?" Ace watched her rise to her feet and cross her arms. "For years, I told you that I wanted to work my way up the chain. I haven't moved since I allied with Two-Face. And his constant need for that stupid half-dollar is annoying. Ace, I plan. I scheme. A whole year, I've dealt with his whiplash and it's driving me crazy..."

Ace stared at her.

"Don't you love the guy, though?" she rose to her feet as well. "Chance, you told me you fell in love with Harvey Dent."

"He's not what I anticipated him to be. Big Bad Harv isn't there all the time."

"Honey, he's an MPD." Ace cooed, setting a hand on Chance's shoulder.

"I know that." Chance muttered. "But I hate how he isn't...balanced. When Two-Face leaves, and Harvey takes his place, sometimes I think his immoral side won't ever return. I fear the worst."

Ace understood. "You think he'll turn you in?"

"Well, I'm not saying I fully trust my instincts, but I've got a horrible feeling..." Chance said. "I usually can get Two-Face to dominate Harvey; sometimes, though, it's like I have to beat him in order to get him angry. It's the only way to draw him out."

"Is that what's bothering you?" said Ace incredulously. "Cold, hard-stoned Chance doesn't trust her boyfriend?"

"He's not entirely truthful," said Chance. "It's not just my paranoia. He's got that wife of his."

"Who, the blonde?" Ace chuckled. "Grace? Chance, you saw on television how well that came out. She left Harvey Dent."

"She left Two-Face," noted Chance. "She still loves Harvey."

"Then kill her." Ace replied nonchalantly. "She makes it harder for you, kill her. Chance, do what you have always done when someone gets in your way: intimidate them. Extort them. Buy them off. You're a different class of criminal, friend. You're most likely to run in Penguin's game."

"That fop surrounds himself with women to make himself look popular," said Chance disdainfully. "I'm a flair for the intellect, that appearances...Obviously."

"Well, I'm not for back-stabbing, but why don't you get Two-Face out of the way?"

"I can't do that." Chance muttered.

"Ugh, Chance. Get love out of your head if you want to climb that ladder. Where business is, pleasure can't intervene. Unless your thing is prostitution, but I wouldn't recommend it. Heard that bosses take most of the cut."

"Ace, I'm not killing Two-Face...I promised him that I wouldn't harm him."

"You and your promises." Ace scoffed. "Some of them you can't keep."

"I've always done what I promised." Chance said defensively.

Ace waved her hands, "And that makes you _so_ honorable. Ugh...it's a sign of weakness."

"_Control_ is a sign of weakness?" Chance remarked. "Perhaps you haven't noticed, Ace, but Joker's let you run too easily. You're killing off everyone in sight. And I wouldn't let me guard down so quickly, you know."

"What, Chance? You think those pathetic thugs over there can take me? Think I'm not up to anything? Well, Missy, you should know that I've prepared myself for any situation. I'm not..."

"You're very confident," said Chance notably. "I know I'm rather vain when it comes to my intellect, however yours is quite advanced. Taken down so many thugs in past month, you've grown accustomed to winning. Ace, it's not about winning. You have to cover your tracks."

"I cover them well." Ace retorted.

"Yes, if by well you cover your footprints with trails of blood. You leave your bodies behind. Haven't I always told you to hide well?"

"You've told me lots of shit in the past, Chance. Joker lets me wander."

"Joker lets you get caught!" Chance said loudly, approaching Ace.

"He always bails me out." Ace said assuringly.

"And what happens when he values Harley over you, hm? What will happen when he suddenly decides out of the whim of amusement that you no longer...accomply?"

Ace smacked the shit out of Chance. Chance fell to the rough patch of dirt under her feet. She grunted slightly. Ace hadn't flinched. She merely watched her friend rise to her feet slowly.

"Okay," said Chance lightly, rubbing her reddening cheek. "I deserved that."

"Damn right, you did." Ace said quietly.

"Ace," continued her friend mildly, "I'm not putting your clown down. By all means, he makes a good boss if you're understanding his humor, which is very funny. But hasn't he ever told you how he treats Harley?"

"He doesn't treat me like he treats Harley."

"So hitting you is a good thing, then?" remarked Chance coldly.

"He's rough." Ace said sweetly. "And you can't find a better boss. He's a funny guy."

"Funny guy? He's absolutely ruthless." Chance uttered. "As I said, I wouldn't let my guard down. Harley Quinn is a piece of work. You have to watch your back."

"Oh, because Harley is a tough nut, I have to walk on my tippy-toes"—Ace mimed walking on glass—"or maybe I should cower when the fluky floozy comes a-bouncin' around, crawling all over him? Chance, friend, she's not a challenge for me."

"For now." Chance said enduringly. "Ace, I'm only looking out for your well being. I've looked out for my skin for the last few months, and I've made some good things for myself. Although, I am feeling a bit restrained. It's like Two-Face doesn't think I should mount the throne of Gotham's worst villain. He might think I'm too ruthless."

"You're calculating and want riches. Two-Face wants two different things: justice and injustice, and he'll try to balance them out, and try to keep you, and perhaps get Grace." Ace reported. She sat back down on the bench. "Look, after all this time, you want to knock him out of your game? He's got connections. He seems like he cares about you..."

"It's all business, it seems. In the end, it's a transaction." Chance said gently.

"You don't trust him, he doesn't trust you. It's the lack of faith." Ace said. "I trust Joker with my life. One day, I hope, he'll feel the same for me."

Chance sighed.

"I sort of wish we never separated."

"Well," breathed Ace, "I understand why we did, but you might have overreacted."

"Me?" said Chance, turning to her. "You lost me 50 _billion_ dollars."

"Yeah. But there's always more money anywhere." Ace shrugged. "Could've gotten it from anywhere."

"I would have been famous for taking the bank," said Chance pointedly. "The money would've have been a bonus."

"A very fortunate bonus," Ace added in. "Look, it's all right for now. Convince Two-Face to join Joker. You'll work with me, it'll be like old times. If push comes to shove, _I'll_ whack off Two-Face, but I won't tell you when. Then you won't break your promise, and hell, we'll have more money for the three of us."

Chance nodded.

They shook hands.

"Deal." They said together.


	15. Out in the Open

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Fifteen: Out in the Open

Two-Face and Joker's allegiance had been formed in an hour when they established ground rules. Chance and Ace hadn't returned from the rendezvous until only a few minutes after the rage and shouting had ceased and the two men were looking at their female companions.

"Honey," said Chance as sweet as a honey bee, "could I speak to you?"

"Honey..." Ace uttered to Chance. "No, no, this is _definitely _only business."

"Actually," said Joker, "_Harv_ and I were gonna have a word with both of you. We've actually...You can go ahead and sit down now...We've actually agreed on some terms...of well, agreement."

Chance and Ace exchanged curious looks. Chance frowned slightly.

"I wasn't told that things were being decided, apparently..._without me," _she hissed at Two-Face, who stared at her unblinkingly.

Ace bit the inside of her cheek.

"Oh, a bit of a lover's quarrel is going to happen, Acey," said Joker, quickly sitting down beside his companion. "Let's watch, hm?"

"Joker," said Ace, "they're not lovers."

Two-Face glanced at Chance questionably.

"Hm, not lovers," he said to her coldly.

"No," said Chance sternly. "We're not, evidently so. You said you wouldn't make any decisions without letting me know. You said you'd treat me like a fellow co-worker, well—You've been selling me this act..."

"I'm not sure exactly what is going on here," said Joker, scratching his head.

Ace turned to him.

"Two-Face and Chance allied on agreement that he'd help her gain some respect in Gotham; he hasn't relinquished any control, and she's a control freak. She thinks their relationship is a basic business transaction, but apparently, Two-Face feels for her, but she doesn't trust him fully because of his MPD. Harvey wants Grace, but Two-Face wants Chance, but Chance thinks he'll eventually turn him in because of his immoral and moral side are battling it out. Since you and Two-Face have set ground rules, he's left her out of their deal, and now they're going to argue about how I told you everything and it's out in the open."

Joker nodded.

"Oh."

Chance and Two-Face turned toward each other.

"You don't trust me?" said Two-Face.

"How could I?" said Chance, suddenly furious. "Your decisions are based on a flip of a coin, a thing that is taken from any jewelry department, any store, any _bank_, and you let it decide for you. How can I trust that one day you'll decide to kill me and it lands on your bad side, but how can you decide on that, _Harvey?" _she spat his name out. "When Two-Face wants me as a partner but Harvey wants me dead, huh? What will you decide then? What is keeping you from letting me go? What's got you on such a tight leash?"

"Don't you scream at me." Two-Face told her calmly.

"I'm not screaming." Chance retorted, crossing her arms. "You're making me irreparably furious with you!"

"You have to learn to let things go." Two-Face told her.

"Yes, and that's why I bat around you all the time, hm? Because I can't let you go?"

Joker handed Ace a bag of popcorn.

"Great show. Ace, want some cheddar and cheese?"

Ace looked at him with a slight smile.

Two-Face sighed.

"I'm done with this conversation," he told her.

"You sure you don't want to flip for that?" said Chance hotly.

"I'm sure both of us want you to shut up," said Two-Face.

"What? _What?_ You can't talk to me like that! Don't you walk away from me!"

Joker and Ace watched them start off toward one of the tents. Ace shoved some popcorn in her mouth. Joker sighed.

"So, how'd you learn all that, sweetheart?" asked Joker.

"Girl talk." Ace remarked. She paused. "Love?"

"Yes."

"You don't think of me as some harlot, do you?"

"No," he said automatically. "Who told you that?"

"Nobody...Just...Harley's..."

"Harley? Has Harley been telling you this?"

"No, dear...No." Ace said, stopping Joker from rising to his feet. "No. Chance speculated that Harley Quinn's growing a bit jealous of how much you pay attention to me."

"Oh," said Joker. "Well, it's quite simple. You get my jokes. Nothing more embarrassing than a girl who laughs only when you laugh. And if Chance is giving you ideas, I'd get them out of your head. She's very tightly wound, if you know what I mean. Girl like that anywhere thinks everyone's out to get her. Even her boyfriend."


	16. Not Like Harley

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Sixteen: Not Like Harley

The only thing that stopped Chance and Two-Face's squabbling was that she had fallen face forward and fell over on her wounded leg. After the scream she emitted, Two-Face had hauled her into a large circus tent. Joker recruited boys to retrieve a first aid kit, then sat down beside Ace was looking into a hand mirror. Ace held a wash cloth to her gash on her cheek.

"God..." she uttered.

"Hm, never mind the bruises, ma' dear," Joker told her. "Adds color to your pretty face."

Harley looked up with a frown from the foot of the cot; Harley was tending to Chance's wounded knee. Now that the wound was free from her pant leg, the laceration on along her knee cap was beginning to fester. Harley glanced at Chance; they met each other's eyes. Chance could see that Harley wanted to say something, but shook her head to keep the harlequin quiet. _Not now,_ was what Chance intended. Harley bit her bottom lip.

"How'd you manage to ignore that pain, friend?" inquired Ace, setting the mirror down on her lap. "The time we were walkin', you didn't wince at all."

"She tripped." Two-Face said beside Chance.

"Shut up," said Chance coldly. "You didn't know I was hurt until I did fall. Caring, you say. Not knowing, says I." Two-Face frowned. "You still expect me to warm up to you because you hauled me to this tent, Harv? Not a chance..."

"Don't worry, Two-Face," said Joker. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. She'll stop biting your head off once you let off for a couple hours."

"Ouch!" Chance gasped.

"Sorry," said Harley, smiling slightly. "Guess I got carried away."

"It's a human leg, not a dirty table, girl," said Chance, setting away some irritation.

"Maybe this'll dull the pain," said Joker, handing a bottle.

"If this contains arsenic," simmered Chance, "I'll have your head on my wall."

"Hon, did you do anything to it?" said Ace, hand-swiping the bottle just as Chance was about to take it.

"Now who's ruining my fun," said Joker, deflated. He opened the bottle and confetti flew out of the neck. "You know what would be some good bonding time? If Chance and I took some place to heist, and Ace and Two-Face took to another. How's that sound?"

"Where do I fit in, puddin'?" said Harley, feeling left out.

"Well," said Joker, tapping his chin, "I guess you could come with Chance and me. After all, you and Ace shouldn't sit together in the same classroom. Not one minute goes by before you're at each other's throats. Of course, I'm not complaining."

"Wee!" Harley said happily.

Chance licked her lips. "And what exactly did you have in mind, Joker?"

"Well, I sense that you want to become top dog, likely you're going to try to knock me off my so-called pedestal. But I have a proposal for you, Chance."

Chance looked at Joker seriously. Joker rose to his feet. He sat down on the cot beside her. His shift in the weight of bed sent Harley squealing as she fell off and landed on the ground. She uttered "_Oof"_ and popped up, looking slightly disheveled. Ace smirked. Chance hadn't become comfortable with Joker's sudden appearance beside her; she frowned ever more deeply and scooted away from him, admiring some presence of personal space.

"Sweetheart," said Joker, looking at Chance, "I value life as the next person in line..."

"That's why you kill people, got it," retorted Chance derisively.

Joker remained smiling.

"Nevertheless," he continued, "I wish to tell you that if you kill me, I'll have Ace kill you."

Ace's smirk cleared. She stared at her lover.

"What?" she and Chance said together.

"That's right," said Joker pointedly. "That, or my little _Harle_ will oblige..." he helped Harley to her feet and set the mischievous jester on his lap, turning a flickering smile toward Ace, who narrowed her eyes.

"You can't kill her, clown." Two-Face growled from behind Chance's shoulder. "That's part of the rules. Neither of us can kill the girls."

"Oh, but didn't you _hear_ me," said Joker, rising to his feet, sending Harley to the floor once more. "I said _Ace_ will kill Chance, not me."

"You're crazy." Two-Face grumbled.

"This is true," Joker told him. He turned to Chance. "You heard me. You set one finger on me, I'll instruct Ace to kill you. And she will..."

"What makes you think _that?_" Ace rebounded, also standing up. Chance and Harley were the only ones down. Chance looked at Two-Face, to Joker, to Ace, then back to Joker.

"Ace, you can't help your blood lust," Joker told her. "If you're restrained so long, you'll go crazy too."

"I'm not under your control, I'm _not_ Harley." Ace said. "I'm not your property, Joker. I _choose_ to stay with you, and if you think I'm going to bullied around by some man who thinks he can take me—!"

Joker raised his hands up defensively when Ace approached him.

"Babe, simmer down..." Joker said.

Harley was about to rise to her feet when Chance said, "Stay out of it, stay out of it," from the corner of her mouth.

Joker was backed up against a chest; he fell onto it while Ace hovered over him. She wasn't afraid of him, and that was the difference between she and Harley. Ace was willing to stand her ground on an issue, and Chance took it that the issue was her. Ace glanced over her shoulder and realized that she had an audience. She sighed slightly, then stepped back. Joker slid off the chest and smiled proudly.

"All right, perhaps I jumped the gun too early in the process, but my dear, I admire your fire. Chance, though," he said gently, side-stepping Ace, "I do recommend you to stay clear."

"Duly noted." Chance retorted.

"But, Puddin'," said Harley, getting to her feet, "she isn't ready for the road."

"He doesn't mean now." Chance said seriously.

"Of course, that'd be ridiculous," said Joker. "Though I'd find hilarious to see you hobbling like an elderly man."

Two-Face sighed and took him by his shoulder.

"Come on, Clown, we've got plans to make."

"Right to point," said Joker, walking beside him. "Ace, come with me?" he asked with a hand offered to her.

"Rendezvous later, friend," called Ace to Chance, who merely shook a hand at her.


	17. Harley and Ace

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Seventeen: Harley and Ace

Harley dressed Chance's knee in a white bandage; she held the holding pins in the tips of her lips. In the silence, one would hear Harley's shuffling fingers. When the blood had stopped flowing, and Harley made the greatest attempt of first aid, Chance merely looked at her with some gratefulness. Harley returned the smile, but her eyes fell as she looked up in the distance to see Joker and Ace disappear behind a tent with Two-Face.

"You can't ever expect that he'll love you."

Harley frowned at Chance.

"He loves me, reallly. He's really rough sometimes, but...Oh, what do you know, anyway? You know as much of me as Ace does."

"Must be a lot on that account." Chance replied softly. "Honey, you're no different than what other domestic disputes have been. He's absolutely psychotic, and you're fallling, or might have fallen, just head over heels for some guy who a few months ago threw you off a roof. A roof, Harley...Pitched—AH!" Chance groaned when Harley slammed a fist on her knee. Chance pushed her away viciously. "And you and Ace," she said sternly, "handle my criticisms the same way."

"I see the way you look at Two-Face," remarked Harley. "You'd react the same way if I insulted him. Besides, you and him aren't the same level as—Well...you're just like Ivy. She doesn't understand how much I love Mistah J. And neither will you."

"Ace and I are best friends, and _I _don't understand." Chance stated.

"Ace. Acey-poo, Acey Doll...Ace of his Spades..." Harley grumbled. "The moment I laid my eyes on that girl I thought she was going to be my friend. She's not. She's just some lady trying to steal my puddin'."

"Then leave him. Then leave _them._"

"Listen, girl," said Harley, suddenly brave, "I got enough fight in me to last me a lifetime. I ain't afraid to hurt you every time you tell me to leave those two alone."

Chance indicated the tent a few feet from them.

"You already have. Harley, he doesn't hit her like he hits you. He yells at you more. He separates himself from you all the time. He looks into your eyes and insults you. I am no stranger when it comes to this stuff. I've seen how he looks at her."

"Shut up!" said Harley. She held a fist back and started to swing at Chance; Chance caught her loaded fist and pushed her away. Harley frowned. "I just needed to tell someone how I feel! I can't bottle it in forever! A girl can't last without someone to talk to. Surely you know how that is?"

"Then why don't you just tell me?"

"You? You'll blab to your pal over there. That's how we all found out about you and Dent."

"Everyone was bound to figure that out sooner or later." Chance replied. "Everyone lets secrets go, every now and again, and it does no harm. Harley, if you bottle all this up, you'll want to kill Ace just to feel some relief."

"Isn't that the way to go, isn't that what Ace has always said. If you want someone gone, kill them. If they're getting in your way, knock 'em dead. Wonder where she learned that..." Harley said roughly, looking at Chance.

"She learned that saying from me, but I never told her to kill at will."

"Is that why she went all crazy? You told her she couldn't have fun?"

"You and Ace have that one thing in common: fun and ingenuity. Seems legitimate."

"That's why Joker won't let us kill each other..." Harley sighed simply. "Thinks we make a great team. I'm not sayin' I hate her guts. She's pretty cool. She got a great sense of humor, you know. Pretty witty, what with the knock-knock jokes and all that stuff. But Ace is constantly getting Joker to herself."

"I wouldn't know that feeling." Chance said. "Grace has been out of the picture for a bit; though that might be changing soon."

"Whaddya' mean?" said Harley, sitting down beside her. "I thought you and Two-Face settled it. He wasn't going to get rid of ya because he likes ya."

"_Two-Face_ likes—"

"It doesn't matter," argued Harley. "That stupid personality thing doesn't apply to love." Harley said. "I should know. I was a shrink before Joker showed me that life could be fun. Harvey likes you because you're pretty and you're smart. That shouldn't matter if you have some real action every now and then again. And Grace isn't in his life anymore, you said she left him."

"I know she did. I just have a terrible feeling."

Ace had walked inside the tent.

"You _always _have a terrible feeling. It's why you have great instincts, pal," she said. She glanced at Harley. "Came to get you. Joker wants ya."

Harley smiled at Chance.

"What can I say?"

Harley somersaulted and cartwheeled a way.


	18. Nothin' Goin' On

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Eighteen: Nothing Goin' On

Four days passed, and Chance's knee recovered. Ace, during Chance's down time, had wandered around Gotham in search of a clever scheme. She had been instigating in Gotham's Sewers when she had stumbled upon Killer Croc. Thinking she was a lone straggler, he had come out of his hiding place from underneath an untouchable hatch and surprised her, flying out of the water. Ace had acted upon instinct and stabbed the supervillain in the shoulder to merely wound him, to see who her attacker was. Upon realizing who exactly was her assailant, Ace had chuckled in amusement, and she withdrew her knife from the bare-chested mutant with a wide smirk on her face. Croc had led her to his quarters, a dismal den with a light, some food, but habitable by one who lived in the Gotham Sewers. Ace wasn't for being held captive underground, but appeased her victim in a way he had asked: she had dinner with him.

His pointed teeth and narrowed eyes shined at her when she ate his meal. She noticed his leer, she set aside her plate and crossed her arms on the table.

"So," said Croc in his husky voice, "what the hell are you doing down here? Figure you're more of the type that prowl the streets."

"Thought I'd go hunting."

"You weren't looking for me. I know it. That'd be stupid."

"As if you could take me down. Tell me, Killer," said Ace with interest, "do you know anything fun that's going to happen? My pals are starting to get bored. And you know how bad it could get when _I _get bored."

"I could amuse you for an hour or two," said Croc with a toothy grin.

"I'm not talking a sex encounter; I'm into that stuff," said Ace passively.

Croc shrugged.

"Loss. What do you think I am?" he said. "What makes you think I'd even tell you what's going on?"

"I know you're always looking for Batman. He put you in the hospital a few times." Ace coined, rising to her feet.

"Everyone's looking for that guy." Croc said, watching her. "What makes your offer any different, eh?"

"Because there's something in it for you." Ace said.

"You aren't the one who usually gambles with words, girl." Croc said. "That other chick does. Hear she's workin' with Two-Face. Not a bad couple, but I think somethin's goin' on between them too."

"Chance is with me nowadays. Wondering if you're interested. I'm waiting." Ace said.

"Well, all right." Croc shrugged. "When I find out what's going on up there, I'll tell you."

"Awesome." Ace said sweetly.

Ace climbed the ladder and left the sewer. She didn't stop there. Ace followed the street to a local night club. She found the address amazingly easy. Ace chuckled slightly. Ace glanced at the bouncer. He took one look at her and said in a deep voice,

"You wanna see the Penguin, lil' lady?"

"That's my intention," said Ace with a flirty smile.

"Yer mighty perty."

"And that lets me in?"

"Well, I can't really—"

Ace flicked a knife from her wrist and held it to the bouncer's neck.

"How about now?"

"Sure, yeah. Go on in."

Ace pocketed her knife and patted the large man on his cheek.

"Good boy," she cooed. He smiled dotingly at her then he pushed open the door behind to let her pass. Ace entered with her hands on her hips. The local night club that was run by the gentleman, or the 'fop' is what Chance called him, was relatively quaint. It was not a down-and-dirty dance bar with slutty girls in some material shaking their asses over perverted men; it was more of a restaurant ordeal. In fact, Ace, in the past, considered dining here many a time, but outwardly turned it down for fear of being exposed. But that was when she was working solo. Knowing she had a few high class criminals to go home to, Ace was feeling quite brave. She passed a few nice tables that had a few flowers in vases. It was a nice place, she had thought once more, but the nicer the picture, the dirtier the owner.

Penguin was, of course, what Chance had told her. When Ace had approached the door leading into his office and head quarters, she heard women in his chambers, merely discussing the extinct bird in reference, a Quantico Falcon. Ace rolled her eyes, though despite feeling some resentment toward him, she knocked accordingly. The conversation behind the door halted. From within the confines, Ace heard Penguin say,

"Hugo, I asked to see no visitors. The miscreants below can..." He had opened the door, but he halted when he met a different pair of eyes. "Oh...It's you...Perhaps I've run my course?"

Ace smirked.

"I'm not here to assasinate you; I have no grounds. Can I come in?"

"Is this a business call?" asked Penguin, letting her inside passively.

"It could be. But that really depends on you. Having an evening getaway, are we?" inquired Ace, observing the manner of which the two ladies were dressed inside the room. They looked equally risque, though Ace could see that they were intoxicated.

"You caught me in an awkward moment. I apologize." Penguin told her, gesturing for the girls to get out. They giggled as they went out the door. "As I say, I wasn't expecting pleasurable company."

"Flattery doesn't work with me." Ace told him, turning on her heel to frown at him.

Penguin waved a hand. "It's not flattery. You _are _great company. I'm told on the street, if ever I send myself down there to accompany a few of my men, that you're quite the comedian when you wish to be."

"Yes. I'm hilarious. That's not why I'm here," replied Ace sardonically.

"You're not really the business type. Unless you're here to kill me, which would be admirable since you're doing it face to face as all thieves and murderers should do so, I have nothing to tell you. Lately, I've been on a bankrupt state, thanks to you two. You robbed me quite a sum of money."

"Perhaps I can give some of it to you." Ace bargained, smiling widely.

"Ace, my reckless raven, you are not the usual person to come up to me with some deal."

"If you don't want to make a deal with me, I can't help you get some bread on your fancy, little china tables. Though your prostitution ring seems to be bringing in your fair share."

"I don't support prostitution. It's degrading to women. Nevertheless, I wonder what your plan entails."

"No plan. Yet." Ace pointed out. "I'm looking around for some fun. None has yet to come up. I want to know the instant you find something out. I'm bored out of my mind."

"How amusing. Why don't you start your own fun, Ace?" said Penguin. "That's always what you were good at."

"I know this. Well, it's been a nice chat, but I really have to be leaving."

"I will let you know the instant I find something. I'd like to keep our bargain, if you don't mind."

"Of course." Ace said, then she left the room.

Ace found it to be rather annoying how none of the villains were plotting anything. She had thought that Penguin might have had something going on after his plan to infiltrate the Second Bank had tanked. To evidently no avail, Ace had found out that no one was ready. She had trampled away to a chemical plant on the outskirts of Gotham. She managed to enter without being noticed, then when she found the appropriate door, Ace had confronted the Scarecrow. He had been somewhat disturbed by her presence; like the other two criminals, he had expected to be killed. Ace had told him that her days of assassinating people for money was not exactly up to speed.

Scarecrow was not a stranger to Ace. They had dealings in the past before, but he was different. Jonathan Crane and Chance had been romantically involved when she and Ace were partners; the latter ended when Crane broke his promise to spare one Rachel Dawes from a highly concentrated dose. Hadn't it been for Batman's intervention, Rachel would have been driven massively insane and then collapse from the tightening fear. Chance modus operandi had rendered her helpless to deal with Scarecrow's so-called betrayal that she left him on the spot the moment he was freed from Arkham. Ace and Scarecrow had stopped their partnership, due to Chance's insufferable way of beating his name to the ground, though they kept in touch every now and again.

Scarecrow had asked how Chance was doing, knowing fully well with whom his ex-girlfiend had been working with for the past year. Ace merely responded that she was working with Two-Face and Joker, but she was falling out of love with Harvey. When she said this, Crane had responded to her positively. He told her that even though he had nothing planned, he'd let her know. But before she left, Scarecrow advised her to visit Poison Ivy in the abandoned power plant that had been condemned. He handed her an antidote to the toxin.

Ace injected herself with the medicine then went on to the said location. Ivy hadn't lost contact with Chance or Ace when she had worked with them for the longest time. Ace found her easily in her mobile home. Ivy's garden was a variety of live plants; they seemed to growl or purr around Ace as she approached Ivy's humble home. The need to go in wasn't there; Ivy was already outside, tending to her garden.

"You never sleep, it seems," said Ivy, not turning around. Ace stood behind her. "What does Joker's creep want with me?"

"You got anything going on?" asked Ace, almost by routine.

"Not really."

Ace rolled her eyes.

"What a terrible class of dull villains."

"Ouch," said Ivy, rising to her feet to meet Ace. "I have nothing planned and suddenly I'm not a good villain? How hurtful."

"I've been searching all day for a gig. No one's got anything up their sleeve, no scheme. No weird, irreplacable revenge bursting to fly forward. Batman's got it easy tonight."

"You been to everyone?"

"Yes. Scarecrow, Two-Face, Joker, Harley, Clay-Face, Penguin, even Killer Croc. What a bunch of duds!"

"Then perhaps you and Chance oughta come up with your own scheme. She's always got some ideas." Ivy told her nonchalantly.

"Oh, _right_. I _did not _think of _that_ before I left 12 hours ago." Ace remarked, laying on the sarcasm. "I'll see you later, Red. You'll let me know?"

"I'll be the first to tell you, darling."


	19. INDICTED

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Nineteen: "INDICTED!"

It had been a month since Ace's prowl. Despite Joker and Two-Face's plans are performing their separate heists and jobs, no big considerations had been issued. Harley and Ace went through Gotham hitting a few jewelry stores and came back with generous sums of money, though the monotony of the job was getting to Ace. A reckless bugger with the need for thrills to enjoy her work, the trigger finger on Ace's right hand was getting needy; she wouldn't restrain herself much more if she couldn't release the tension. Harley, too, ached for some difference. While Joker's little minions had been trotting the town having the time of their lives, Chance reserved her energy to constricting herself to maps and origins of the highest bidder, this to say, Chance was considering leaving the pow wow in order to advance. Chance had once or twice considered leaving Two-Face to try her hand at running solo, but the loneliness would impact her, and concentration would go to shit.

Chance had been rooted to a map of the sewers, planning on poisoning Gotham's people's supplies to gain some points in the criminal world, advancing a few spots up the chain in a day rather than taking another year to go through the stupid steps of the ranks. She considered warning Killer Croc below the grounds, but also thought it'd eliminate him as a possible rival. But that stupid conscience of hers contradicted that plan: she was like Penguin. She couldn't stab someone in the back before letting them know what they did wrong. Chance wished she could abandon her stupid promises and go on like a real bad guy, doing everything and going against her word. But it simply wasn't done. Promises were like plans; it had to be done.

"You've lurking this tent for some time."

Chance jumped and turned around, startled.

It was Joker, dressed in his usual suit, and the same smile was on his face. She frowned slightly.

"I figure you'd be with your charming little mimes," said Chance, referring to Ace and Harley.

"They're fighting again. Can't imagine over what." Joker said smugly.

"You are quite the player," muttered Chance.

"I'm not a cheat, though, which makes it honorable."

"You pit the girls against each other. It's not honorable at all."

"They both know that I like 'em both. If they didn't know about each other, it wouldn't half-amusing as it is now. Though you'd know all about the half-side of things, granted that you have already well-acquainted yourself with Big Bad Harv." Joker smiled widely when Chance looked away from him and turned to the maps. "Looks like Chance," he said, sitting on the table, "is losing interest. Am I boring you?"

"Leave, Clown." Chance hissed at him.

"Ooh, touchy." He poked at her temple on the side of her head. "Looks like I touched a nerve."

She batted his hand away.

"What do you want?" she said, annoyed.

"I want to know what you've been up to. I've never seen any girl whose nose was that close to a table since I smashed Harley's face into one. I'm curious."

"And what did curiosity do to the cat?" said Chance coldly.

"Hangin' out with that top dog, Max Shreck, have ya?" Joker called. "He used to say that to his associates. You been an ally to almost every criminal in the world. Except me. Wonder why is that."

"You're insane." Chance said.

"As you constantly recall, but my insanity doesn't hurt anyone...too bad, anyway." Joker took the maps from her. "I know you're always trying to climb to the top. And these maps. You carry them all the time. What's so special about—?"

"You're asking too many questions, Joker." Chance replied, taking the maps out of his hand. "I have had allies all around Gotham. Max Shreck is an old friend of mine."

"Probably more, judging by the way you get to know your partners," Joker told her. "Two-Face, Scarecrow, Maroni...You've spilled more than just blood with them, haven't you?"

"Out." Chance said hotly.

"Hm." Joker remarked with a large smile. "Tell me what you're doing. I'll let off the insults."

"I'm brainstorming. How is that? That a good answer for you?" Chance said. "If everyone would just let me alone for a few minutes, I'd come up with some resolve. I am the plans apparently. Let me think."

Joker shrugged.

"I know you're wanting to throw me off my high chair, but, Chance, this _is _my Gotham. Batman is terrified of me, I know it. You want that, don't you?" he laughed. "You're all about fear, aren't you? The more horrified people are of you, the less muck you have to clean. Hey, I understand entirely. Which is why we make such good partners. Though you could loosen up."

"Out." Chance uttered coldly, turning back around.

"I'll tell Ace you're all right." Joker told her. He patted her on the back of her shoulder. She flinched.

It was a few hours when Ace had returned from an electonic dealer store with a working television. After hooking the television to the wall, Ace flipped the channel, and smirked with she had managed to make the power go through the lines and enter the televison. She was given praise by Joker via a kiss on the apple of her cheek. Ace threw the remote at Chance who caught it easily. The gang sat down on a stolen couch; Chance had created an unknown dish, though it tasted like a stew. When the TV was flipped to the local news station, it was to the gang's slight move when the recovered DA Rachel Dawes appeared in one of the squares on the screen.

Ace's eyes glimpsed Chance's shift in her couch.

Scarecrow had dosed her with the fear toxin, sent her to the Gotham Ward for insanity, though it appeared that Rachel Dawes had beeen stronger than what had been predicted. The local news reporter named Summer interviewed Ms. Dawes about her attack from a man dressed in a sack over his head. Joker and Two-face had glimpsed Chance as well; Two-Face merely looked at her, knowing that she had worked with Scarecrow before; Joker had turned to her, knowing the extent of the relationship.

"Have you recovered full from the attack, Ms. Dawes?" Summer asked with a microphone to Rachel's mouth.

"Yes," said Dawes. "I have been treated well by the nurses in the hospital. They helped me get by as much as they could, but I really have to thank my psychiatrist, Dr. Hugo Strange..."

The four of them on the couch grimaced.

"...For helping me get rid of my fears, Ms. Summer," Dawes finished with a smile.

"Do you know who attacked you?"

"I do, his name is Jonathan Crane. I imagine the public could have already guessed who he was, since he's the only other activist in the medical field who really ever shown interest in psychopharmacology. I also think he had an accomplice."

"Three years after this attack, you still remember who that face is?"

"My attacker or the accomplice?" inquired Dawes respectfully.

"The accomplice. Was there just one?"

"No, I actually think there were two. Females."

"Can you recall their names?"

"Yes. One was named Chance. The other was named Ace."

"Will you prosecute against them and testify whenever this Crane and his accomplices are brought to justice?"

Dawes looked straight at Chance and Ace.

"I will. They will go to Arkham when Batman brings them in."

"Batman?" said Summer. "You think he'll do the job for you?"

"Yes," answered Dawes. "I am friends with the vigilante. He was the one who brought me Falcone..."

"Turn it off." Chance said, annoyed.

Ace pushed the off button with her foot. She rose to her feet.

"Well," said Ace, "looks like his medicine wasn't as strong as he thought it was."

"Gotta help him..." Chance was muttering to herself. "He can't fight Batman and the police."

"Chance, are you listening to me?" said Ace quietly.

"We gotta help him..."

"Chance."

"I promised."

"Chance," said Two-Face roughly.

"Off me." Chance said in a voice that matched his. She jerked her arm out of his hands and glowered at him. "I promised him that we'd stay in touch. I have to make sure he stays out of Batman's way."

Ace stood with Joker and Harley; the three of them didn't intervene.

"You said you'd work with me." Two-Face growled. "You're not leaving me to help some guy who went against your plan—"

"As if you've got a foot stand on, Harvey." Chance said, starting to walk away.

"You belong to me!" Two-Face roared.

Chance stopped on call, turned on her heel, and stormed up to him, absolutely livid.

"You're certifiable, Harvey Dent. I don't belong to anyone."

"You said you wouldn't leave."

"I said a lot of things; you did too. You don't mean what you say, so why should I have to abide anything that I tell _you? _I am not yours to claim..." she looked into his eyes. "And you're not mine."

"So that's it?" he said to her as she started to retreat. "You're out?"

"I am an old ally of Scarecrow's, Harvey. That's what allies do. They help each other out. And you've done nothing for me since I allied with you. You've restrained me, I can't clobber you because I've promised to keep you from harm. I can't hire anyone to knock you off this world. You don't benefit me, Harvey."

"What am I, then?" Two-Face said. "I own near half of Gotham."

"You own half of Gotham, so that's what supposed to do? Make me stay interested, isn't it? _I_ want to own _all_ of Gotham, and that's not possible when you won't set me free."

"I do set you free." Two-Face argued.

Ace stepped away from Joker and took Chance by her arm.

"You can't separate from me again, Chance. You promised."

"I'm not leaving." Chance said. "I'm getting Crane and then I'm coming back here."

Joker clapped. "Oh, good, company." He grinned. "That pumpkin head should have a lot of fun things to say."

"He's quite the bore," said Harley.

Two-Face grew red.

"You're not breaking the agreement. It was supposed to be you, Ace, the clown and his clown all together. No outsiders."

"Outsiders?" said Chance. "Without outsiders, we're just sitting here. You've got no plan, you rely on nothing. Don't you see? Dawes is going to prosecute every one of us," she said, indicating each person with a finger. "I'm not taking the chance to get caught by Batman. She'll put us in Arkham quicker than Joker can make a funny pun."

"I went against the bitch, she's easy to take down." Two-Face remarked.

"Yes, and I'm sure you'll do just fine looking like this," retorted Chance rashly. She turned to Ace. "I'm going to get Scarecrow. Alone, he's got some chemicals to help him out, but he's not exactly Mr. Body Builder like Joker or Two-Face."

"Hey, I get it," said Ace sweetly. "I can come with you."

"Fine." Chance said."

Together, they got into a car. Two-Face appeared at the window.

"Chance. Just..." he hesitated. "Be careful."

"Always."

Ace put her head out the window.

"Bye, bye Darling, I'll bring back dinner!"

"Hold the ketchup!" said Joker in response.

"You have some weird farewells." Chance told Ace. Ace grinned then floored the gas pedal.


	20. Plans

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Twenty: Plans

Ace had ramped up the street in a sudden turn around a pole. Chance had her arms folded over her chest grumpily, a scorned look on her face. Ace glanced at her. Ace reached toward the radio and pushed a button. From the dashboard came a honk, which took Chance by surprise; she jumped, then the dashboard opened and a rain of confetti showered her. Chance angrily tore the red, blue and purple confetti pieces from her hair and clothes then looked at Ace.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" said Chance viciously.

"Trying to make you smile," said Ace innocently, though her face was a grimace.

"Well, don't. I'm not in the mood." Chance retorted, crossing her arms.

"One argument with Two-Face and it puts you in the dumps. Not fun." Ace muttered.

"I just want to get this done and over with; the faster we get Crane, the safer he is."

"What makes you so sure that he's going to get caught, Chance?" questioned Ace reasonably. "We never had much bad luck when we worked with him those few years back. Granted his motives were always the same, but, still, he wasn't the type to get caught by the police."

"We're all mutual enemies to the police and Batman. When they work together, it's never a good outcome." Chance explained gently. "And we cannot be caught. I know Rachel Dawes; she isn't just a pretty face. She's a very good District Attorney. And it's by chance at all that Harvey ever won a case against her."

"What makes her so different compared to the other scumbags who take the stand?" said Ace sardonically.

"This one hates those scumbags." Chance remarked.

"Ah, one of the incorruptible shysters." Ace said with a tone that expressed some disdain. "Never thought I'd ever hear one of those. Well," she sighed, "she's only human. Everyone's got a weakness."

"You can't buy her off," said Chance.

"Not all weakness are silver and gold, dear," said Ace. "You know that."

"Then we go to the one person who really knows." Chance said. "After we pick up Crane, we're going to hunt down Strange."

"Sounds like a plan to me. He still owes me from when he ripped off Mr. J."

"He does, me too, from when he ripped off Two-Face."

Ace smiled.

"Well, looks like this is just destiny."

Chance nodded. "Looks like."


	21. Long Lost Loves

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Twenty-One: Long Lost Loves

Ace drove safely through the streets, though she knew what would lie ahead...eventually. She had worked it out last night as she listened to the ongoing screaming between Chance and Two-Face, and knew the future could only postpone the destiny between two best friends. Knowing that one day, Ace and Chance would one day have to fight it out, she saddened. It was not a secret between them. Ace had known for some time that if Joker would not set aside Gotham, Chance would have to bring her down before touching Joker. It was a pact, a silent promise. As Penguin once said, there was a honor among thieves that Batman or other officers would never understand.

Chance wanted to reach the top. And Ace always knew that nothing could stand in her way. Ace had known that Chance had anticipated reaching the tippy top with a minimal amount of fuss: destroying the villains that would come her way would be a cinch, and on top of the world, she'd live like a queen, able to boss around her subjects and getting all the money in the world to her door step with Ace on her side like a loyal lieutanent. That had been the dream all along. But Ace had gotten in her plans several times; losing Chance fifty-billion dollars had destroyed that dream long ago. When Chance and Ace separated, that pact they made to fight alongside each other was destroyed, and they became each other's rival. When Chance allied herself with Two-Face and Ace became Joker's hench girl, they were on separate teams, fighting for their own.

However, Ace had no plans, and therefore, she was simply happy with the circumstances. Chance's involvement, getting her best friend back in the game, was a mere bonus after the fun time at the bank. But to Chance, it was just another obstacle to get through; Chance had intended for a year or two to end up on the top, but Harvey did not see her as a co-worker, merely a dog to instruct. Ace knew that eventually, Two-Face's leash on Chance would break. She didn't want to play the loyal subject, Ace always understood. Chance was very much a leader.

Ace glanced at Chance, who was watching out the window.

She smiled slightly at her grumpy friend.

They were always working well together when Chance hated Two-Face at the moment. It seemed as if the old times were back. Ace's reliance on Chance was that they still were best friends, but once more, they both had changed. Chance's promise to reach the top would be fulfilled. To do that, she'd have to fight through Ace. And although Ace would have given anything to let Chance get to the top, Ace's loyalties were strong, and so could not permit herself to let Chance attack Joker. This was why they would hit heads; Ace had loyalty toward Joker, and Chance had her promises. While Ace felt compelled to fall in love Joker, she thought eventually, he'd come to fall for her as well, and love would conquer all. Chance, on the end, despite romantically being involved with three of her past co-workers, couldn't believe that love and business should ever interfere. And if it did, she wouldn't surpass.

Ace, though, had to admit something. She wondered if Chance was trying to save Scarecrow because of her past dealing with him or because of that deal they had: save each other's asses is what the favor was. Perhaps Scarecrow always knew that eventually she would come back. Ace had to give him some credit. But would he really risk his neck over such a constricted woman?

"Lost in thought?" inquired Chance. Her face looked bored. Chance propped her head on a suspended elbow, pointing to the street which Ace had been parked in for a moment. Ace shook her head.

"Sorry..." Ace muttered.

"Sorry?" said Chance, suddenly amused. "You _really_ must have been thinking hard."

"What?" returned Ace, mildly annoyed.

"_What?_ You just apologized. A mass murderer like you apologizing to a serial killer like me?" Chance replied, but didn't expect anything in return. "You _do_ remember where we're going, don't you?"

"To Crane's chemical laboratory, I got it." Ace remarked.

"Well, at least you haven't lost some of your memory. Turn right, we'll be in the back. We can come in that way_ and _Batman is here, we'll avoid him for a few minutes. Unless he doesn't watch television."

Ace pulled in as instructed. Ace and Chance emerged from the car slowly, observing their surroundings. Ace covered her nose. Chance wrinkled hers.

"Ugh," Ace uttered. "You know he's at work. How does anyone not notice his vile shit?" she uttered, pointing at the sky to reveal a light cloud of smoke jutting out from the black sky.

"The public thinks this is a power plant. And don't you already know the smell?" Chance retorted. She lowered Ace's hands. "You're not inhaling anything. It's suppose to reek."

"Maybe I'll die of disgust." Ace retorted grimly, gagging.

The stench the two of them were referring to was a heavy, intoxicating waste, something mixed of extremely, overused perfume along with a hint of skunk juice, and the occasional hint of dogfood. The chemical lab was skirted near the ocean, so there was no doubt that it mixed with the water's pollution. And Chance knew Crane masked his solutions with a fragrance that to anyone else would smell like an insecure woman trying to hide her body odor. Chance gestured for Ace to follow.

They came in through large double doors. Chance withdraw a key from within her bra and pushed the rusty thing through.

"You still have that thing?" Ace retorted incredulously, hands on hips.

"I never leave without it."

"Don't tell me that you knew we would see him again!" Ace said loudly, feeling suddenly irritated.

"No, I knew _we_ wouldn't meet again. I knew that I would come across his door at least once a year. To keep in touch, as I had promised him." Chance told her without looking at her. She turned the key and it clicked.

"You'd think he'd change the locks, though, after, what—_three_ years!" Ace retorted sarcastically.

"Old habits die hard." Chance told her. The door opened.

Chance and Ace entered a dark room.

"Crane!" Ace cried out. Her voice echoed "..Ane...Ane...Ane..." She frowned. "And he didn't even put in carpet. Cheap, cheap, cheap, cheap."

"Knock it off." Chance told her when Ace mimed a chicken. "Crane!" Chance called out. Her voice echoed off the walls as Ace's did. "Ane...Ane...Ane...Ane."

"Batman wouldn't have taken him off to Arkham, would he?" Ace asked softly.

"He isn't here." Chance told her.

"Oh, yeah, and who are you today? A psychic?" Ace said irritably.

A pause.

Ace sighed. "Scarecrow!" she yelled out angrily.

From beside them, a voice said,

"All you had to do was say my name."

Ace glanced beside her to see a frightful looking sack mask stare at her; she saw through it, gazing at ice blue eyes.

"Take it off, Bird." Ace said. "You don't frighten me."

Chance smiled softly; she reached a hand toward his face and withdrew the sack.

"You were always a stone when it came to fear, Ace." Crane remarked admirably. "It's a pleasure to see you again...Of course," he added, "I won't ask you if you're here to kill me, but I anticipate that you aren't unarmed."

"I'm never unarmed." Ace said.

"Of course. I know this." He glanced at Chance fondly. "And you aren't either."

"Never." Chance told him.

"I thought not."

Ace glanced at the two of them with a sickened expression. Long lost loves. Ew...


	22. Packing

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Twenty-Two: Packing

It turned out that Scarecrow intended to meet Chance once more due to the conflict of interest: Batman would impound him into Arkham, and as Ace had suspected, Scarecrow had anticipated her arrival. If he hadn't, it was hard to comprehend this falsity considering the fact that his manufacturers had everything packed in large suitcases and as Chance and Scarecrow were discussing the present circumstances of Joker and Two-Face, Ace was watching two scientists pour a very white liquid into large containers. Ace frowned.

"We're not bringing that shit back to the fair grounds, are we?" she said disapprovingly.

Chance turned from her absorbed conversation.

"We have to; it's Crane's product."

"I don't see why he couldn't just make more of it there." Ace remarked.

"It doesn't matter," said Scarecrow to Chance, who frowned at Ace's attitude. "It's understandable why a very brave girl would hesitate when she sees—"

"You think I'm scared of your little water and vapor, Crane?" said Ace, sounding confrontational, approaching him within a foot of his distance. He stepped back, aware of her challenging personality. Crane observed her in a manner that a mother would observe her unruly teenager. He put his hands up defensively.

"Perhaps I decided to mock you too early." Scarecrow told her.

"After three years, I'm not scared by your parlor tricks. Stop thinking that you can ever scare me." Ace told him sternly. She met his eyes with unblinking gaze.

"Take it down a notch, Ace." Chance warned her.

Ace scoffed, but fell away from Scarecrow to fold her arms across her chest.

Scarecrow turned to Chance.

"I thought you were going to be late getting here," he continued their conversation as his henchmen were pulling the bags into the trunk. "Though I never doubted that you would go back on your word."

"It was a bit foolish to wholly depend on me, Jonathan," chastised Chance, pointing to herself. "I am not some magical wizard who appears right on time in a medieval middle earth. I could have arrived late; Batman could have found you."

"I anticipated that he was on his way."

"Still, love, it was risky business." Chance told him endearingly. "I'm not as agile as I was the few years back."

"That is not true." Scarecrow said seriously. "I heard on the news that you and several others took over that bank a few miles down. That was quite impressive."

"I didn't plan on running into Ace or the Joker when Two-Face and I took the bank. I didn't even know I was fighting Ace until she spoke." Chance admitted. "Though her combative style of offense should have been my first clue. Some criminals fight with ongoing movements, hers is somehow different."

"She is what they call 'keeps on coming'," Scarecrow told her.

"It was a close battle. Any longer, and she'd have killed me," Chance admitted darkly.

Scarecrow raised an eyebrow.

"That's a very bad Kryptonite, dear," he told her.

"I know eventually we'll bump heads." Chance continued as they walked through the plant to make sure everything was gone. "Eventually," she said, "but not any time soon."

"You intend to climb your way through all the super villains in Gotham; you've got some ambition."

"I can't do it when I have interference."

"Which is...?" Scarecrow asked.

"Rachel Dawes."

Scarecrow nodded.

"Yes, I heard on the news that she recovered. Though you must know that I didn't intend wholly on making her mad, Chance. Just enough to let her forget what she saw."

"Despite that," said Chance, "you know that she remembers our faces. She'll prosecute."

"Of course," said Scarecrow.

"If Dawes and Batman and the police interfere, I'm not doing my own thing. I don't want any help." Chance told him. "It'd be like cheating."

"You want Dawes out of the picture." Scarecrow told her.

"Listen," said Chance. "I'm not asking that Dawes be destroyed. I already know how to get her postponed."

"You have a plan in mind, don't you?" said Scarecrow.

"Hugo Strange was her psychiatrist. At any point, Ace and I have had dealings with him in the past, and we actually owe him a visit; he had pulled a stunt the other time and ripped off our cohorts at the time. And in any case, he knows her thoughts; his machine he used on her records thoughts and emotions. Everyone has a secret to hide," said Chance. "Especially any district attorney."

Ace appeared beside them.

"It's all packed in vans, that shit he uses"—she gave Crane an exasperated look—"is in the back. Whenever you two are done talking, we can get going as soon as possible. I'm quite in a kill-ish mood, so if the bat comes prowling around, I'm killing him."

"Don't exaggerate," said Scarecrow, patting her head. "No one can kill him."

Ace batted his hand off her head.

"You're not any higher than me because you've got extra smarts, Crane. I can still stab you, and you'd fall over like everyone else." She glanced at Chance. "I'm calling shotgun..."


	23. Returning Home

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Twenty-Three: Returning Home

The while that Ace and Chance collected Scarecrow from his laboratory and the chemicals were being uploaded into the traveling vans behind them, Two-Face and Joker supervised the gang's proceeds as money was being recounted. The result ended in a very beautiful number of sixty-billion dollars. Two-Face, though being somewhat entranced that so much money was finally in his possession, couldn't phase what Chance had screamed at him more than about two hours ago.

_I am not yours to claim...And you're not mine._

_You don't benefit me, Harvey._

Two-Face had sat on the same cushion of the couch, hearing over and over her words in his head, bugging him. _You're not mine...You don't benefit me, Harvey...Not yours to claim...I'm not yours to claim...You don't benefit me, Harvey._

"Feeling high-strung from that bee who caught you in the chest, Harv?" said Joker from beside him.

Two-Face made a small growl. Joker was standing behind the couch, leaning forward to say so in his hear. He had been observing his fellow henchman's actions, much like a friend to a bothered husband of an old couple. Joker merely worried that Two-Face was getting side-tracted; he didn't want his dual partner to blow out with a machine gun and try to handle the disputes like that. So Joker, feeling a bit vindictive, lured Two-Face from his thoughts, hoping to get the half-beauty, half-beast to speak.

"Come on," said Joker with a wicked grin. "You can tell me"—his voice dropped—"_anything."_

"I ain't saying shit to you, clown." Two-Face said grumpily.

"What, man? You and her scream at each other and suddenly you're whooped?"

"I said I'm not talking to you." Two-Face rendered coldly.

"If I can guess what's eatin' you, would ya loosen up?" suggested Joker.

"You're playing games with me." Two-Face muttered.

"No game. Just talking." Joker punched Two-Face hard in the shoulder. "A man to _man _conversation, with me. Not just you. If it's just a man-to-man conversation with you, you're really just talking to yourself, but hey..." He grinned. "Who am I to talk?"

"Whatever..." Two-Face grumbled.

"She's got you pinned as one person, son." Joker said, smashing his two white-gloved hands together. "You know, after watchin' her a bit, she always had the hots for the bad ass side of you, but you've gone soft."

"Soft?" Two-Face growled loudly, leaning toward him.

"Yeah, see, make more of that show—" Joker patted his shoulder in a congratulatory manner, "And she'll pine for you again."

"You don't understand our relationship. You're a psychotic weirdo. A guy who's all up and tangled in the ropes, don't know where you're going. Ace and Harley, they don't know why they like you. You're not a real man."

Joker scoffed.

"I still have two girls who would swim through an ocean of thumb tacks if I asked them to; as I recall, yours believes that you are two spaces wasted on air. Or no, wait, that was too wordy...she didn't say that, did she?" Joker mimed a very hard thought process then smirked. "No, no. What she said was that you didn't really benefit her. Which I guess in her terms, well, she's so smart and all, that you have no place beside her. That must mean that, correct me if I'm wrong—"

"You _are_ wrong!" Two-Face roared at him, then he grabbed a handful of Joker's clothes around his neck and tossed him over the back of the couch.

Harley came running through the room.

"Oh, Sir!" she cried out, staggering to Joker's side. "Are you okay?"

"I'm peachy, hon." Joker muttered, getting to his feet. "Two-Face is just having some anger issues. No wonder why his woman left him..."

Two-Face, who hadn't gone deaf, got to his feet and shouted, uplifting the couch. Joker chuckled.

"See, Harle. Aren't you glad I can control myself?"

"I'll wring your filthy little neck, you psychotic creep!" Two-Face threatened.

From the entrance of the tent, Ace and Chance came inside, flanked by Scarecrow and his men. Chance stared at the oncoming Two-Face who had his arms out, ready to grab Joker. Ace reacted as she would in any circumstance; she narrowed her eyes then flew a grapple rope from her pocket; it flew past Chance's face and caught Two-Face around his ankles, sending him to the ground. Joker turned and saw Ace frowning.

"Did you bring back dinner?" said Joker.

Ace withdrew a doggie back from near hammer space and handed it to him. Joker stood behind Ace to observe her backside, trying to figure out where exactly in that skin tight suit she could hide a bag full of goodies. Two-Face struggled, bending to get his hands to his legs. From his position on the floor, he didn't care who entered the tent, only hoping to hurt Joker as soon as possible. He stopped moving when he saw a pair of heels in front of his eyes; one of the heels was tapping disapprovingly.

"And how," said Chance with a sigh, "is this supposed to help me in the long run, dear?"

Two-Face looked up to see her disappointed gaze.

"It's not what you think."

Ace scoffed from behind Chance. She handed Joker a bottle of ketchup.

Scarecrow approached Chance from behind.

Two-Face ripped the rope from around his ankles and staggered to his feet.

"You brought him _here?" _he said viciously.

"No, I thought leaving him on the side of the street was a good idea." Chance remarked sarcastically.

Ace chuckled.


	24. A Mind That Races

Two Heads about Everything

Chapter Twenty-Four: A Mind That Races

Rachel Dawes had been one of the first few noble people that Chance had ever seen. When they first met, it had been on Crane's account, and it was not ever planned. Crane had been producing his biochemically fear-inducing toxin in the basement of Gotham's own city hall and courthouse, and there, he had criminals whom he had sent to Arkham create it. The plan was to pollute the city's water supply, inhabiting the pipes to blow, and when the pressure was too much, the sewers would burst through the manholes, and Gotham would be submerged in a cloud of Crane's poison. Rachel, though, brighter than most DA's, had grown suspicious of Crane's diagnosis of Carmine Falcone's sudden inhibition to claim insanity, despite the fact that Falcone's age, health, and overall mental state had never shown signs of any insanity.

Crane, as a way of cutting his ties with Dawes, had meant to draw her to the basement where he showed her his creation. Chance, who had known about Dawes, had been appalled and furious that Crane went against actually _two _promises he had given her. Chance's morale told her that although Dawes was quite a persistent woman and her ability to show the ugly in people on the outside was very annoying, Chance knew that Rachel was quite talented, smart even. Such an aptitude wouldn't go to waste, so Chance had made Crane promise that he wouldn't harm her, nor would he show her exactly what went on with the inmates of Arkham Asylum.

Ace had been helping the pouring of the toxin into the jetting streams of the sewers when she had noticed that a person unadorned in orange uniform had been standing beside Crane. While Chanced had been busy with some shipment paperwork, Ace had spotted Dawes from over the railing. Thinking that Crane was filing betrayal against Chance, it had been Ace that confronted Crane with the idea of poisoning Dawes.

When Crane had given her an essentially strong dose and Chance had discovered her lying on a slab table, mumbling indistinct, frightened sentences, Chance had turned to Crane, and terminated the partnership there on the spot. She had left him in the basement, beckoning for Ace to come along. Compelled to her friend, Ace gave Crane a fair well.

After three years, Dawes had recovered from her leaking sickness with a mind to bring the three of them, along with any other villain, to justice. Chance was right; Dr. Hugo Strange would have had been the only other person besides a good biologist (such as Poison Ivy) to have cured her. He had machines that could help. Chance, though, felt a bit plagued by a vague detail, something eating inside her mind, though she couldn't figure out what that little detail was.

Ace had commented before that everybody had a weakness. Chance could've guessed that Rachel wouldn't accept bribery, as straight an arrow as she was. Even a trade of secrets wasn't a fair deal. And Dawes was noble. Would there be any files on her at all?

Chance had been sitting in the dark of her tent, staring at the entrance flap with narrowed, blue eyes; the moonlight poured in from the small holes in the zipper, and it caught her light iris in a way that a cat's eyes glowed in the night. Chance felt...more perplexed than anything.

Was Rachel Dawes immoral secretively? Was she the shiny picture that everyone liked, but in the shadows, she was as dark as Two-Face was? Where was Dr. Strange now? Where was _he_ hiding? And how would Chance get him to talk?

She felt as cautious against him as he would feel towards her. That's what the criminal world was about: distrust and trust, honor and dishonor among thieves.

And even if she got through all the obstacles, what was her next step? After she made Two-Face submit to her, if she had Strange submit, too, how was she ever going to top Joker's feats? He was an incredible genius on his own—With a master plan in the works, Joker could flip over the town and everything would play into his hand. Chance wondered if she was going to have to kill him to get what she wanted. As an ally, Joker would be quite an asset. He was intelligent, she admitted. He was a bit too comical for her standards, but still, she had to admit, too, that he was hilarious.

And Harley Quinn. Chance had anticipated that Harley would try to kill Ace for Joker's affections. In all reality, killing Ace would sever the ties. Harley was very go-lucky, very happy, very funny, amusing. Sometimes, though, it seemed that Joker was afraid of her whenever she caught him two-timing her; it happened more often, according to Ace.

And what of Scarecrow? Surely he wouldn't fight in order to gain Gotham. All he wanted to do was to get people panicked enough to cause a fear-fest, and under Chance's rule, she'd let him do it, too. Scarecrow wouldn't pick a fight. Though she felt some tension between them. Perhaps it was left overs from their dead-end romance. Chance's stomach rolled.

Relationships never became her. Joker was right. Chance's romances simply fell when she finally achieved what she wanted. Out of Maroni, she got money. Out of Two-Face, she got power. Out of Scarecrow, she had some morale. Chance admitted it: she used anyone she could for her own benefit, this was one of her flaws in her design. What person was perfect?

It had been hours before Chance realized that she hadn't moved. She had only stirred when she saw a looming figure over the flap of the tent. Tensing, she awaited the arrival. But she relaxed when she realized that it was only Harley.

"Hi," was her greeting.

Chance noticed the sullen tone.

"Hi." Chance returned.

"You're all in here by yourself." Harley told her.

"Thinking." Chance said.

"You want me to leave?" said Harley curiously.

"No. No. Sit." Chance beckoned the small cot beside her. Harley crossed her legs on the floor and sat down beside her friend. "What's on your mind?"

"Oh, nothin'. Mistah J's havin' a talk with Ace again."

"Why did you leave the room, then?" said Chance.

Harley frowned.

"It's not that kind of talk."

Chance's cheeks reddened, embarrassed.

"He and Ace are...?"

"Yeah..." Harley growled.

Chance bit the inside of her cheek.

"Sorry, sweetie."

"It's okay. He loves me, really."

"Harley, Harley, Harley."

Chance gestured. Harley took off her mask and wiped her make-up off her face. The blonde hair and the blue eyes showed.

"You really are very pretty," said Chance with a gentle smile.

"Thanks." Harley said.

Harley bent down and set her head in Chance's lap.

"It'll be okay. You'll see. He'll show me that he loves me too." Harley sighed.

Chance's eyes returned to the flap of the tent.

"Of course, Harley-girl...Of course, he will." Chance replied.


	25. Crane and Ace

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Twenty-Five: Crane and Ace

After Ace and Joker's intimate rendezvous, Joker went beddy-bye in the tent. Ace left the scene, exhausted but satisfied, and she crossed the fair grounds to sit upon a dusty concession stand. She pulled her long blonde hair up in a messy ponytail. Ace glanced around the fair grounds, mesmerized that she still managed to have a hold of her situation. She had been at this place since she left Chance. Looked like she was the only person to hold a safe haven. A smirk.

Ace leaned back over the stand's edge, reached behind her to grab a cold beer from a plugged up refrigerator, then sat up straight. She was caught off guard, though, but a looming figure in front of her.

"Fuck!" she cried out, fumbling with the bottle. It crashed beneath her in shattered shards of dusty glass; she frowned at the figure that she realized was Scarecrow. He was wearing his mask. Ace reached behind her, grabbed a baseball, then wielded it at him.

He dodged effectively and laughed.

"Quite a temper. For such a wild girl," he added, indicating Joker's tent.

"Piss off." Ace hissed.

"Are you always this colorful afterward?" he inquired her behind his mask.

"Are you always this annoying?" muttered Ace. She took a spare beer from the fridge behind her, wanting to at least get the top off before he startled her again.

"Looks like I might have unnerved you." Scarecrow said slyly.

"You didn't _unnerve _me." Ace retorted, imitating his accent. "Your horrible Halloween mask made me puke in my mouth. Apparently, I react on my feminine instinct after all: trying to protect myself from psychopaths."

"You don't have to make a smooth recovery with me, Ace. I know you were startled. Too lost in thought, perhaps reminiscing what happened a few minutes ago."

"Are you a pervert or something?" said Ace seriously, staring at his eyes through the mask.

He laughed.

"No. I'm not a pervert. The matter is this: most of us enjoy sleep. Your bitch moans wake the neighborhood."

Ace grinned.

"See, that's sheer honesty." Ace popped open the bottle and drank from it. "Want one?" she offered, indicating a finger from around the bottle, pointing toward the stand casually with an attractively, sincere smile of her own.

"Why not?" he accepted.

Crane took off his mask and sat on the stand beside her. She handed him an unopened bottle.

"So, Crane," said Ace, "what's got you pecking at night? I recall you being a much heavier sleeper when Chance and I are were working with you?"

"I recall that you were working _for_ me." Crane said.

Ace took a drink and shook her head.

"Mmm, no...I remember precisely that I didn't work for you; I worked for Chance."

"It was a good design," he said dotingly.

"It was." Ace agreed. "You, the scientist; Chance, the strategist; and me doing my talented trade: knocking the scumbags who deserve to die into place by threatening mass murder and mayhem." She smirked. "It _was _a good design."

"I can't help but wonder why it fell apart, though. All the pieces fit together, then suddenly..." Crane glanced at her. "It just didn't work."

"It was your fault." Ace told him in a blunt manner.

He frowned.

"It was." Ace told him as if to reassure him. "You brought that girl down. Dawes had never found out if you hadn't brought her to the basement."

"She'd have figured it out anyway," said Crane passively, glancing at the bottle in his hand.

"Chance wanted to bide time." Ace told him. "_I _knew that."

"Then why don't you ever wait like she instructs?" said Crane curiously.

"Because that's not fun. Keeps her on her toes," Ace added with an impish grin. "But," she continued with a sigh, "you are right, Doctor. It have happened inevitably so. Dawes is quite the clever woman, if not a noble one. Perhaps you know something about her, Crane?"

"I didn't get to know her." Crane retorted.

"So you have no idea if she has any dark secrets? No skeletons in the closet: no affairs, dead husbands, misplaced children, killed mothers, missing bosses, secret identities, secret jobs, missing high school record...?"

"Not a thing about any of those. Dawes is a straight arrow." Crane said.

Ace tapped her fingernails on the bottle.

"Well, Chance has always said that the shinier the picture, the darker the body. She might be wrong. Unless..."

"Unless what?" said Crane, honestly curious.

"It's a stretch." Ace muttered.

"Ace."

"Hey, I'm not all certain..." Ace told him impatiently. She drank the last of her beer bottle. "But I've always had a theory. Dawes is a noble person, no secrets of her own. She must be covering somebody."

"That _is_ a stretch." Crane told her seriously.

"I'm not talking about her covering for some lunatic in a bin." Ace rolled her eyes. "It's someone she knows."

"She knows a lot of people."

"You know, you're not really smart when you touch alcohol." Ace retorted.

"You think she'll forgive me?" he muttered.

"What?"

Ace glanced at Crane. He looked a bit solemn now. He was looking into his beer bottle as if he was trying to see the future. Ace sighed.

"What are you saying to me, Crane? You want her back?"

"It wouldn't hurt." Crane admitted.

"She sort of involved with Two-Face." Ace informed him. "Though I think they're a bit racy."

"Racy?"

"You know...Grrr." Ace mimed a lion. "Not exactly a happily married couple. They fight quite a bit nowadays. You want to talk about waking the neighborhood? I'm actually surprised that Batman hasn't found us yet. Or that Gordon hasn't come here after being called for a domestic dispute."

Ace sighed.

"Anyway, that's what I have to say, Crane. I'm going to tell Chance what I think."


	26. Without Them

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Twenty-Six: Without Them

Fast forward about an hour later. Ace awaited Chance's reply. They stood beside the concession stand where Ace had once been perched. Chance's eyebrow had raised, intrigued, which was a good sign. Ace smiled slightly. She handed Chance a bottle of beer from the stand. Chance glanced at it and turned it down.

"You're sure?" said Chance soberly.

"Yeah." Ace said. "It falls into place, doesn't it? It'd explain it. We wouldn't find anything dirty on Dawes because Dawes doesn't play dirty. But she's noble. She'd cover for someone's secret, someone she likes. Someone she loves. And she's in good with Gordon. And Gordon's got connections with Batman. So Dawes knows Batman." Ace said clearly, listing the trail on her fingers. "That's the trail. That's what you've been thinking."

"Mm, and Strange has the identity of Batman. But, Ace, that didn't work out well the first time."

Ace scoffed, "Then we go for them because we want to, not for Joker or Dent. We can do it without them."

"You want to work solo with me?" said Chance. "Joker won't like that."

"I don't care." Ace said. "We've been under low profile for a year. I'm impatient."

"I know this." Chance crossed her arms. "What do you intend to do, Ace? Burst into Gotham's City Hall and retrieve Dawes yourself? She won't tell you _anything._"

"No, we go after Dawes together, and if she doesn't tell _you_ anything, _I _make her talk." Ace corrected her intensely.

"Killing off Dawes won't help us. We'll get heat that way." Chance answered.

"She knows who Batman is." Ace decided.

Chance stared at her. "You don't know that."

"Well, I would be right if we asked her."

"The moment she sees us, she'll go to Gordon."

"Then we ask Gordon."

"He'll order his men to fire at will."

"Then we fire back—Chance, I have given you answers. Finding Strange is the long way around. We don't need him if we go straight to the source. Nobody else has ever gotten closer to Batman then Gordon."

"That's risky, Ace." Chance said, shaking her head. "We're not going to—"

"What's happened to you, girl?" Ace snapped. "You'd have jumped this the moment I told you. You've waited an hour to actually _decide_ anything..."

"You're getting pent up, stand back and relax, Ace." Chance told her softly. "If we act on this, Joker and Two-Face, and Scarecrow will act on it as well. Keep it quiet."

"Then let's go through the sewers, get to the basement. We know the way." Ace insisted, watching Chance start to turn away. "You and me."

Chance bit the inside of her cheek.

_Chance, old girl,_ thought Chance, slightly deflated, _you could at least give Ace the benefit of the doubt._

"What did you have in mind?" said Chance finally, turning back to look at her friend, whose looks softened to a proud smile.

"Thatta girl!" Ace cooed, slapping her playfully on the shoulder.


	27. Betrayed

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Betrayed

Chance's slight hesitation of interrogating Rachel Dawes had come from a slight hind sight in the back of her mind, that familiar jolt of instinct that she always believed someone was a few steps ahead of her. Chance's own caution had her predicting that Dawes already had some inclination that she would be seeing the duo soon, though Chance didn't know what made her think it. Against Ace's plea, Chance informed Two-Face about the plan, whilst Ace said not a word to Joker, though whispered it to Harley Quinn. Within the confines of the tent, Two-Face and Chance argued, while Ace and Scarecrow waited outside.

"You think Dawes is actually going to drop her lawsuit?" said Crane doubtfully.

"She will, and if she doesn't, there's always someone she loves to go after," said Ace. "And I'm not afraid to cross boundary lines."

"What makes you so sure that Dawes will even speak to the two of you? You're renown criminals." Scarecrow told her. "Your pictures are in the paper, and your photos are scattered across the pages online. It's a wonder if no one recognizes you on your way in."

"Chance will get through to Dawes," said Ace reassuringly. "Chance will, or I will. Either way." Ace smiled. "What you don't understand, my little raven, is that neither Chance nor I are afraid to get a little dirty on the job. If there isn't any blood, then we haven't tried hard enough. And if there's a massacre, well, you can only do so much before you're beating a dead horse."

"You're a morbid woman, Ace." Scarecrow told her with a frown.

"This is true." Ace said with a shrug.

The flap of the tent seemed to blow forward; Ace's eyes found one irritated Chance storming out from within the tent, livid. It seemed that simply telling Harvey where she was going had just made Chance more determined to go anyway. Ace gestured toward Scarecrow a meaningful goodbye, trotting behind her seething best friend.

Chance said nothing until they loaded themselves into a car and were driving toward Bedlam Lane, the street that Ace recognized was the same street that resided Rachel Dawes.

"We're not going to the court house," said Chance, answering Ace's silent question. "Dawes is in bed by now."

"You're going to threaten her, right? Then I can punch her if she refuses."

"I'm going to have a civilized conversation with her; if she should make it difficult for me, then, yes. We'll make her speak one way or another."

"I take it Two-Face didn't like you riding solo?"

"It wasn't that."

Chance didn't soften; her face and voice just hardened. "He's been cheating me this entire fucking time."

Ace stared.

"What are you talking about?"

"I know he's been talking to Grace this whole time." Chance told Ace coldly.

"But you said she left him."

"She did. He called her back and they've been talking."

"He told you that?" said Ace incredulously.

"No. But I can tell that I'm not the only girl he's been with. He stinks of Love Spell."

"Ah," muttered Ace. "Grace wore that, didn't she? That horrid perfume?"

"Yes." Chance said. "He knows that I know too. I know he'll be turning me in soon to be with Grace, so it's only a matter of time."

"I can take him out of the problem." Ace said softly, glancing at Chance furtively. "

"You can't tell me when you're going to do it, dear." Chance muttered, shaking her head.

Ace sighed. She reached her hand toward Chance's on the wheel and patted her fingers. Chance frowned ever more. Ace sat back and enjoyed the rest of the ride in an awkward silence.

What took place when they reached Rachel's house on Bedlam Lane was what any horror film could consist of: the two intruders entered the house quietly and found their victim sleeping happily in her bed. Ace awaited orders in the middle of the door frame, silhouetted by the hall light that had been silently triggered by moving shadows. Chance had appeared right beside Rachel's large futon. How she rose from the floor to standing position was a rising shadow from the grave, daunting and silent. Chance signed to Ace with rushed fingers to get a bag or something, fill it with a light something to hit Rachel over the head to put her in a temporary unconscious manner, but not hard enough to put her in a coma.

Ace rummaged dark, block-looking things from around the room, mere objects looked like geometric shapes. Chance had requested Ace to do this particular task because Ace had the quieter footsteps, the acrobatic advantage, while Chance was more tactical in an open-door, noisy battle with several people. Ace's feet made not even a creak on the wooden floor as she moved about the room. It was only when Chance saw her looming shadow beside her on the wall did she realize that Ace was there along with her. Chance took the tied sack, raised it over head, and just as Dawes started to stir—

_Bam!_

Dawes grunted, and she was out cold.

"Get her over to the chair, Ace. I don't want her dozing in and out of conscious when she's lying on the floor. Looks like what you gave me were some fragile heir looms."

Dawes opened her slightly out of pain, only to see that she was being dragged by her arms to her kitchen. The lights in the house were on. Chance was in Dawes' line of vision, pacing the floor with an observed look into a pillow case. What she took out were precious china dolls. Dawes uttered a painful moan when Ace's grip on her arms failed and her head hit the floor.

"Hm," said Ace. "Looks like she's awake. Tough ol' _ghel,_" said Ace, imitating a British accent. She hoisted Dawes into a chair at the kitchen table. Chance had taken it upon herself to rummage through the cupboards and refrigerator. Ace glanced at the lit stove.

"You're making something for her," said Ace with a look on her face.

"She's just awoken. Her brain's a bit fuzzy right now, but after a good broth, she'll start to see right."

"You make dinner for all the people you're gonna kill. Should I expect some fun to ensue later tonight?" said Ace with a bright smile.

"You..." uttered Dawes from the side. Chance and Ace halted their conversation to look at the DA. "You," she said, "aren't killing anyone...Tonight...Not ever..."

"She's so certain of herself, isn't she?" said Chance with a smirk.

"She is," said Ace agreeably, striding around Dawes' chair to stand behind her.

"Don't antagonize," said Chance, stopping her. "Not yet anyway."

Ace sighed and pocketed her withdrawn knife.

Chance smiled at Rachel.

"Are you coherent, Ms. Dawes? Can you understand me?"

"Get out of my house." Dawes said sternly.

"I take that as a yes." Ace said out of the corner of her mouth.

"Out of my house." Dawes repeated.

Chance put her hands on her hips.

"I'd rather talk to you first before we show ourselves to the door, ma'am. All I want is an answer."

"I know how you two work." Rachel said coldly. "I'm not stupid. I know that if I don't answer, you'll let your barbaric partner do your dirty work."

"Looks like you've got it all worked out for yourself, _querida,_" Chance said sweetly. "At least that is out of the way. You've not a clue how long it takes for the rest of them to get the point, but I suppose you're pretty smart, even better than Harvey Dent, I believe."

"What do you want?"

"I've told you what we want," said Chance. "I want an answer to one question."

"Which is...?"

"Who is Batman?"

Dawes' face smoldered. Ace smirked widely.

"I told you!" said Ace triumphantly, pointing at Rachel's reddened cheeks. "I told you! She knows! She knows! Look at her, she knows!"

"Looks like my friend was right the whole time." Chance said. "Rachel, Rachel, Rachel, who have you been befriending these past few years?"

"I don't know who he is."

"Liar," Ace said hotly.

"I don't!" Dawes exclaimed as Ace approached her.

Chance held Ace back by her arm. Rachel stared at the two of them. Chance sat on the table in front of her. Chance gave Rachel a bowl of soup with a spoon.

"You see, Miss DA," she said, "the bad thing about knowing how Ace and I perform is that you know just how bad it can get if you don't answer my question honestly. As you probably know, I already have a compromise in mind, but since you know us so well, you have already figured out that this alternative to my question regarding Batman will not be beneficial to you either."

"You want me to drop my lawsuit against you and Crane." Rachel said darkly.

Chance smiled.

"Yes."

"And if I choose neither of them?" said Rachel.

"Once Ace has had an hour with you, your teeth will be the only thing in that evidence bag to prove that you're dead." Chance said nonchalantly. "I usually hold her back, but since this is rather personal, my dear, I will simply shut the door behind me and leave her with you alone."

Ace jumped onto the kitchen counter, perched.

Rachel hesitated.

"You won't get anything out of me," she said.

Chance raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"No." Dawes hissed.

"Who ever this Batman is, you must really love him." Chance cooed.

"Yes."

"Whenever I find him," said Chance, "I'll give him a big kiss for you. Ace." Chance strode away from her and snapped her fingers at Ace.

"Wait!" Rachel cried out.

Chance continued to walk away. Ace strode around the table.

"Wait!" called Rachel again.

"We had a deal." Chance said without looking back.

"Don't you want to know about the safety of—?"

Ace had put a hand around Rachel's mouth before the rest of it came spilling through; Chance, though, stopped suddenly and turned. She halted Ace once more.

"What did you say?"

Rachel licked her lips.

"I can make a deal with you." Rachel said.

"No. Tell me what you were saying."

"If I tell you, you'll leave my house." Rachel said.

"For now. We'll leave. What now?"

Rachel inhaled.

"Gordon knows where you and Harvey and Joker and Quinn have been resting. He's going there now."

Ace's eyes lit up; she took Rachel threateningly by the collar of her pajamas and growled,

"How do you know? How did he find out where my Joker is?"

"Harvey's fiancee, she tipped them off."

Chance's face reddened; Ace gritted her teeth.

"Grace," said Rachel. "Grace had been talking to Two-Face for a while, for the last year. He told her where you live, the address, the telephone line, everything. They're coming to get you, and the rest of them."

Chance and Ace left Rachel alone.

They raced out of the house and jammed themselves into the car.

"That lying, cheating, two-timing, piece of shit!" Chance roared.

"You were right!' said Ace. "You were the right the whole damn time! But he said he wouldn't—?"

"_Two-Face_ promised he wouldn't turn me in. It's his good side; that moralized piece of slime has resurfaced and reclaimed Grace. Harvey's turned me in. I knew I had a bad feeling. I just knew it!"

"Drive faster, Chance! Here, let me drive!"

Trusting Ace's wheelmanship, Chance let the steering wheel fly freely, then Ace crawled over Chance to sit in the driver's seat. As the saying goes, Ace put the pedal to the metal and floored the car to its highest speed.

"I swear to God..." Chance growled. "When we get through this, I'm done man-handling..."


	28. Done

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Done

In her mind, she had already begun to think that Harvey was playing with her, to keep her on his side so that when the time came that Chance would conquer Two-Face's domain of Gotham, she would relinquish her ambition and succumb to his charm and sincere love; he was wrong.

After a long quarry with Gordon and Harvey Bullock's men, along with a terrible interference with Batman, only Harvey and Chance made it out of the battle of explosives and firearms, injured as such. As Chance drove Two-Face out of the fair grounds and raced toward the Narrows, then passed the Arkham Asylum to come to a warehouse by the city docks, it was resolved between the two of them that the master plan that Harvey had been sewing was now in tatters.

Parked inside a dead-end garage with only a swinging flourescent bulb to grant them visibility in the dingy room, Two-Face's appearance was horrifically distorted while Chance's light eyes gleamed at him with nothing but chafed anger.

"This is all _your_ fault," accused Chance accurately. "You're a traitor, you're a cheater, and you're absolutely worthless in a life and death situation. You—Don't you _ever_!" She forestalled Harvey's opened mouth to spill out words. She gritted her teeth, breathing heavily. Chance raised her hand and hit the roof of the car. "You're a vile miscreant! You're a terrible person! I can't believe I trusted you! I can't believe I promised you anything! Three years and you turn me in! I should have left you back there! I should have!"

"I am not benefitting anything from this!" Harvey roared.

"Oh?" said Chance callously. "Certainly your amazing Grace is waiting for you back at her apartment? Or perhaps you've switched your personalities and now you're the cold, hard-stoned bad ass who loses his temper when nothing goes his way? Or no, wait, perhaps you have to flip your stupid quarter and decide who to be then! Excuse me, Mr. DA, but if you have arranged an appointment with your disappointing, loathesome criminal of a client, maybe you can let me get a word in before you go turning in more of the people I work with!

"Because of you!" Chance said ever more loudly. "Because of you, my best friend is being arrested! Because of you, you did this! They're going to Arkham, you selfish, lying, scheming wretch! She's going there, and it's all your fucking fault, half-wit!"

Two-Face raised his hand and slapped her mouth. She reeled only a brief second before she hit him back.

"You punched me!" gasped Harvey, bleeding at the mouth.

"Leave this place, ass." Chance hissed, licking her own blood from her lips. She sighed. "I want nothing from you. Get out of this warehouse. Get out of my life."

"Chance..."

Chance withdrew a gun from her pocket, cocked the hammer, and raised it to Harvey's face.

"Leave, or I pull this fucking trigger."

For once, Two-Face's eyes widened. He held up his hands and backed out slowly.

"You come back here," said Chance quietly, "and I won't hesitate to blow you away."


	29. Relinquished

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Relinquished

Ace didn't go easily. Not when Gordon had to have six men to hold her down when they aimed their pistols at Joker. Not when she was trying to slice and dice the officers as they hauled her into captivity of the white van. Not when they carried her on the stretcher; she struggled the entire time as they checked her into the asylum. Not when Ace was being pushed into her separate cell, seven rooms away from Joker and Harley Quinn. Not even when the lights went out. Ace screamed death threats throughout the entire night, banging on the glass, kicking her cell door. When a man in white entered her cell, she bit his finger off and shoved it down his throat.

He was sent to the infirmary on account that he was suffocating from lack of oxygen due to the fact she shoved his lonely digit so far down his throat, he couldn't cough it out.

Ace's immunity toward sedatives was likely made from her high energy level. Dr. Arkham himself had to spit horse tranquilizers into her body from the bars of her cell because no one could come close enough to stick her four times with a normal dose of lithium, and she wouldn't take any oral doses, due to her lack of trust and her rebellious nature.

Ace's normal temper had rejuvenated. She refused meals. Instead, she threw the trays of creamed corn and mashed potatoes into the glass panel of her jail cell. Twice, she managed to break the glass by throwing herself into it. She was incarcerated in a steel cell.

From within, she sung continuously, annoying her security guard who became slowly aggravated by her voice. When he opened the door to silence her, she beat him to a bloody pulp; three guards retained her with machine guns, sending the irresponsible guard to the ICU; he remains in a critical condition, hopelessly left on a ventilator, never to improve.

Ace was then retained under supervision by a sniper rifle, a marine trained under the most vigorous methods of torture to sustain any of her combative issues. However, after seducing him with a little dance, the sex-starved sniper triggered himself, and after his masturbation session, he accidentally set off the sniper, and thus, became deceased.

Under the knowledge that Ace was becoming more and more dangerous without even touching her, the Mayor relinquished her separation from Joker, and ordered that she would share his cell, hoping that with her segregation ceased, she would hold off on her meticulous executions.

After being thrown vigorously into Joker's cell, Ace became more docile and sweet, fawning over her well-placed love while Harley was barred from them on the opposite side of the wall.


	30. End

Two Heads About Everything

Chapter Thirty: End

With formidable planning and a slightly decadent ray of hope, Chance was willing to help out Ace one last time before she vanished clear out of her life. It was clear that any other partners that Chance took up were going to hold her back, even Ace. It was crystal now. Chance would really need to throw away any feelings of friendship if she wanted to get to the top. As Chance got into her car, loaded with needed weapons, bombs, and explosives to bust her old partners of the nuthouse, she lamented the future. It would be like a final end. After tonight, the next time they met, it would be the last. Chance sighed and readied to go. One last wild night with Ace, then she would be gone.

Chance would live with that.

When Chance blew up the west side of the asylum, it was as if all of the police officers had been waiting for it. The ambush was there. But it was a clean escape. Chance rescued everyone there, but all of them left without a thanks or a goodbye. Chance brought Joker, Harley, and Ace to her refuge where she handed Ace the deed to the establishment.

"What's this for?" inquired Ace. "After six months, you blow up a hospital and then this?"

"Keep it." Chance said.

"You're not working with me anymore?" questioned Ace gently, watching Chance's retreating back toward the door.

"Not just you. Anyone." Chance said with a smile. "I can't work with partners, Ace."

"But we make such a great team." Ace retorted.

"We do, you know that eventually, things cannot be as they were."

"We'd settle on it later. You said." Ace said matter-of-factly.

"The next time we meet, I'm not bailing you out of prison." Chance said. "And the next time I see Joker, I won't hesitate to kill him. We can't be partners if this is—" she indicated Ace and Joker together—"is what you want. It's done. We're done."

"What happens if Joker gets the best of you, Chance?" said Ace seriously.

Chance smiled.

"Then I guess the joke would have been on me."

Chance walked out of the door. Ace held the deed in her hand. She glanced at Joker who stared at her.

"Looks like we've got some plans to make." Ace said. "That bitch is going to hit the floor before she can say 'I promised."


End file.
